


A Day to A Year, A Love to A Lover

by thelordvoldemort



Series: Years by Days [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 23:05:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 366
Words: 75,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5604346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelordvoldemort/pseuds/thelordvoldemort
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A year-long look into the relationship of Merlin and Arthur.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. January 1st

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously, the goal is to write every day of this year of 2016. Anyone who has read any of my other works knows that I might not obtain that goal. Here we go, anyways.
> 
> *Please Brit-pick the fuck out of this poor American writer.  
> *I aim for 10 words, at the very least, per 'chapter.'  
> *I will follow assumed or self-proclaimed ideas for character birthdays.  
> *This is my first written fic contributed to the Merlin fandom, please nit-pick the fuck out of it.  
> *I say 'fuck' a lot, so please leave if language is an issue for you.  
> *Rated explicit because of the swearing and fuck only knows what vulgar things I'll end up writing.  
> *Title may change, was thought of on impulse
> 
> HAPPY NEW FEARS.  
> (Yes, you've read that right.)
> 
> Disclaimer: I neither own Merlin nor its characters.

It is the first day of the New Year, once again, and the only difference from the day before is that Merlin's hair has gathered more grease, his nose and throat more snot, and his eyes more crusts. Merlin will still roll over to sleep some more, Arthur will still wake him at one point for sex, then food, or vise versa, and Merlin will still smack him upside the head when Arthur tries to sleep some more afterwards. More importantly, Merlin will easily relent and sleep some more, as well.


	2. January 2nd

The second day of this new year is a sleepy one. Regardless, Arthur finds enough energy (namely, coffee) to haul himself out of bed, turn on some tunes, and start breakfast.

 

Head bobbing, lips softly parting to gently chime out a lyric, Arthur slowly sways his hips to the beat of the song. His hands, one holding a mixing bowl, and the other a mixer, join with their own sort of dance. This is how Merlin finds him, minutes into his routine. He waits until the song ends, another quickly starting up in its wake, before pressing himself flush against Arthur's back, using his hands on Arthur's hips to brace himself, as well as to guide them to following along the new rhythm. After stealing a quick, if somewhat surprised kiss, Merlin runs his nose down the side of Arthur's neck, coming to a stop only once he's reached the joint of his shoulder. He leans closer, mouth nearly touching the skin of his nape, and lowly breathes the opening lines of the song.

 

They have plans for the afternoon, but concede that maybe they can afford to be a bit lazy on the first Saturday morning of the year.


	3. January 3rd

Sunday, as usual, involves brunch. What had started out as a family get together between the Pendragon family -- Uther, Arthur, and Morgana -- has changed into the gather of friends -- Arthur and Merlin, Morgana and Leon, Gwen and Lance, Gwaine and Percival -- amongst occasional others.

 

Beforehand, Arthur lets Merlin sleep in for a short while, as he still does not feel well. When told to go visit a doctor, Merlin, as per his usual, stubbornly says that he will be fine. The cold isn't as bad as the last time he was sick, and he survived that just fine -- "Yes, Merlin, after _over three weeks of being unwell_!" -- so, a small case of a headache and stuffy nose should be easy enough to manage.

 

Arthur knows that Merlin just hates admitting exactly how sick he is. Sometimes, Arthur can't help but agree.

 

But at brunch, Merlin smiles and laughs just as bright as any other day, and informs Arthur that the pain in his head has toned down to the smallest of aches. All the same, Arthur still keeps his palm against the nape of Merlin's neck, stroking his thumb up and down along the side, throughout every lull in conversation that could be quiet enough to remind Merlin just how loud his head can be. And every time, Merlin leans into it.


	4. January 4th

The first Monday of the year has Arthur back at work. Merlin, on the other hand, does not go back until tomorrow. 

 

Instead, he spends his morning worrying over being late to a doctor's appointment (not the routine doctor Arthur insists Merlin should still see for his cold), that he actually ends up on time to. Then, he tells his doctor that his medication just isn't working -- "I'm either far too happy or far too angry, there's hardly any in between." Unless you count the times he zones or lulls out, but he doesn't mention that. -- and they decide that maybe he should take a month without medicine, to flush out his system. Or so the man says, but what Merlin really thinks he means is that he has switched around with far too many, and now might be a good time to take a step back and figure out if it is truly the fault of the prescriptions, after all. Later, he briefly relays the information to Arthur, who gives him his custom worrying look in reply.

 

After his appointment, Merlin meets up with his old time friend, Will, who he hasn't seen for months, for a three hour long tea and bagel break. Like always, they falls naturally into banter and conversation. Merlin leaves the shop feeling lighter than he did when he left the doctor's.

 

The rest of his day drags and pulls.

 

Habitually scratching at his face, he informs Arthur that he needs a shower and a shave. Arthur bites Merlin's cheek, then gives it a kiss, but says nothing more, apparently lost in his own thoughts.


	5. January 5th

On Tuesday, Merlin wakes too early, then struggles to fall back asleep. Eventually he does, but that is only the start to the chaos of his day.

It is his first day back at work this new year, and right off the bat, he lands with two armfuls of Morgana.

At the hospital, the nurse and doctor hesitate to let Merlin see her. Then Leon and Arthur come along, have a few words with them -

"He's like a brother to her."

"They're in-laws. Well, practically. Our wedding is next month and we're all hoping soon after that this one will finally pluck up the courage to make arrangements for his own."

"What?"

"Nothing. I'm Morgana's fiance, and I owe it to Merlin to see her after he, what did you say, caught her?"

\- and then the three men crowd around Morgana's hospital room.

Not much gets done for the rest of the day, but at least Morgana is discharged home with some new medications and a week of appointments.


	6. January 6th

When Wednesday comes along, everyone is tired. Still, the day must go on.

At work, Arthur spends half of his day checking his phone, and the other half pretending that he's not. It's perfectly reasonable, he assures himself. Morgana isn't well, Merlin is obviously shaken from the day's previous events as well as still ill himself, and Leon is understandably worrying himself sick. It is only natural that Arthur wants to have his phone on him at all times in case he needs to have a confrontation with any of the three - not that Morgana should probably be on her phone, anyways, in the state she's in, but still.

About halfway through the day, Arthur gives up and drives over early to pick up Morgana. He's supposed to bring her to her first appointment because Leon has a meeting on the opposite side of town that is supposed to end with only enough time to make it to the doctor's just on time, but not with enough time to actually gather Morgana from home. Like the good, caring brother he is, Arthur had, of course, offered the day before to use his lunch break to pick up, drive, and drop Morgana off.

Conversation isn't exactly stilted, but Arthur does try to play up the instinctual sibling banter as much as he can, while still letting Morgana know that he is, in fact, concerned. He can't quite help himself, though; his two main coping skills with most things emotional usually pertain to humour and arrogance (or as Merlin likes to refer to it: pratness.) He tries to feel out his sister's attitude towards it all, but as always, finds himself feeling as though he's stomping on eggshells. For a moment, he wonders if they've always been like this, or did it all start when Morgana was three and Arthur was six and Morgana had one day bitten his arm for no apparently good reason at all. Arthur doesn't often think of that day, but when he does, he wonders if it was the start of all his sister's anger issues towards him, and why he hadn't noticed sooner, or at least if that explained why he had issues with others touching him, but so easily latching himself onto others.

Anyways, the day goes on, the internet at home goes off for an hour, and by the time Arthur finds himself in bed for the night, the only thing that manages to not tighten the knots in his shoulders is Merlin breathing light puffs of air against them as he sleeps curled against Arthur's back.


	7. January 7th

Today, Merlin wears a hideous, yet fashionable pull over jacket with feathers - "They are not feathers, Arthur." "Could've fooled me." - that reminds Arthur of that time he took Merlin to see The Tempest - "I am not Ariel." "Well, you certainly aren't a Miranda." And then, Merlin promptly changes his mind and his jacket, pulling on a hooded cardigan he never wanted in the first place, along with a slightly weighted green jacket. To help further fight against the cold outside, he adds a big, thick neckerchief.

Arthur uses his lunch break to pick Morgana up from her and Leon's flat, drive her to where Leon is having another meeting, and only questions the practicality a little bit (Leon would be passing the flat on his way to Morgana's next appointment, anyways, but they assure him that this is much more efficient), seeing as Morgana does offer up part of her own lunch to him.

When Merlin arrives home after work, he empties the refrigerator and freezer as he waits for the delivery service to bring in their new and not broken one; or so he thinks. But then, the delivery men arrive, take some measurements of the doors, take the new fridge out of its box, and promptly feel embarrassed and perhaps a tad ashamed when they discover that one of the doors won't shut. They then conclude that Merlin and Arthur will have to wait another few, but assuredly short days for yet another replacement.

After work, Arthur takes an hour long drive to a place he's only ever visited once or twice many years ago. He has never driven the journey himself before and the darkness of the night definitely isn't helping, and neither is Merlin's fussing, but go they must. His cousin, Elena, who runs a pet store and training service, had called that very day asking (demanding) a visit. Arthur doesn't know why, but with Morgana already so unwell, he doesn't quite feel like saying no to most things family oriented for now.

When they arrive, they are attacked by the colour brown. First, the brown is Mithian, with her brown hair and eyes. Then, the brown is a bunch of dogs that cause Merlin and Arthur both to be attacked by browned and muddled memories of past domestics that cause them to both go a bit more quiet than usual. Either because she severely notices, or absolutely does not, Elena more than makes up for their lack of comfortable conversation. However, she cast them occasional looks that neither man can decipher. But soon enough, they discover why they've been asked (summoned) on their long ride, and the answer brightens everyone's attitude and conversation entirely. Elena and Mithian are now engaged, and would Arthur please be Elena's best man while Merlin is Mithian's?

Merlin invites them to trek the long drive out to have the traditional Sunday brunch with them to celebrate all the great news.

Still, the ride home isn't the chattiest and their half-assed attempt at dinner once they're home, cold and tired, isn't the most satisfactory. Stuffing his mouth with piece after piece of popcorn, Arthur decidedly does not want to talk about his day. Pointedly not binging himself, but feeding himself slowly by small handfuls, Merlin can't help but agree.


	8. January 8th

They don't cry over spilt milk, but they do fight over it. They fight over a number of small things tonight that might not be very small at all, but the spilt milk is only the start. At first, after the first fight, they don't manage to sit next to each other and once one tries to reinitiate communication, the other one leaves the room. They do manage to slip in a few short words back and forth about a show playing on the telly beforehand, though. It counts as progress. Minutes later, they're back in the same room and making jokes, but they still don't manage to sit as close to one another as they did before the milk fiasco.

The next round of fighting happens over (and somehow, but not really, about) dinner. That is much worse, as their meal turns out flavorless to Arthur, lacking all its taste, as well as the feeling of being full after Arthur swallows. Arthur tries to settle his nerves or perhaps drown out the current noise, or possibly the likely future silence, by turning on some music. He supposes that it works well enough as they do manage to joke and tease, and only mostly without malice. For less than a solid minute, Arthur finds that his food might not be so bad, after all. But, as reluctantly expected, it doesn't last, and Merlin delays his end of the argument, or maybe just the night's meal, by popping in some earbuds and blasting loud action music that he once said makes him feel like a pirate. Not only does it shut him up, but it also helps him to clean the kitchen faster; taking on most of the work for no good reason other than needing to do something that keeps in step with the music's tempo and out of step with Arthur and everything that follows in his wake for the next several minutes. Not a single event of their night even hints at a possible air of contentment, but it's not the worst night they've ever had.

By the time they're in bed -- earlier than usual and with a feeling neither of them can exactly pinpoint with a name -- they haven't and won't talk about it, any of it, and a sense of emptiness, or perhaps it's hollowness, fills the air surrounding them and the skin containing them. They don't talk about it; in fact, they don't say a single word, but they don't sleep separately on their bed, either, and that must count for something, at the very least. Instead, Arthur goes to silently pull Merlin's back into his front, and Merlin merely turns around halfway to his destination, pushing his chest into Arthur's. He refuses to be the little spoon during this quarrel, which is just fine with Arthur, so long as he doesn't have to play the role of the little spoon, either.


	9. January 9th

They don't talk about last night. In fact, they dance around it, with gentle music playing through the surround sound speakers and Merlin singing lowly but softly along. Sure, they don't physically dance, but they don't really feel like doing much today, anyways. They sit around most of the day, but it doesn’t make much of a difference. The music does, though.

It’s a song about leaving or having lost one’s partner and being lost without them. Merlin sings without gusto, instead giving a performance with the starting attitude of tentativeness that surely, hesitantly firmly changes to sound like a fate –- a destiny, really, in Arthur’s opinion -- that he determinedly fights against. The ferocity of it all causes Arthur’s breath to catch and he only manages to finally blow it out – lose it all, really – when Merlin reaches the verse, “Hold me close when it’s over / Life goes slow loving sober / Feel my bones getting older / Sadness grows when you’re cold.” He is fairly sure the song is called, “Without You” by this band that is so rightfully named, “Oh Wonder” and suddenly Arthur has to push out another breath.

And then, once the song is over, Arthur only has a split second of silence to recover, to think, before Gorillaz’s, “Melancholy Hill” starts to play and another split second later, Arthur surrenders, lifting his feet to the couch. He is sat at one end, turning his entire body to press his back to the armrest like Merlin has done for himself at the other end of the far too long piece of furniture. But Merlin has his legs bent, knees pressed up to his chest. He doesn’t look too tightly wound, but Arthur does notice that he has stilled upon witnessing Arthur’s abrupt movement. Arthur mimics his pose, keeping his eyes trained fixedly on the one cushion between Merlin and Arthur’s individual ones. Tentatively, oh so tentatively, and at such a small crawl, Arthur inches his feet towards the center of that damned cushion, his gazed pointedly never wavering. And sure, he’s not quite breaking a sweat, but the effort to stay at a steadily moving pace is starting to strain a bit, but he is a third of the way there and he can’t stop now. In for a penny, in for a pound. But as he is about to finally reach the middle, Merlin’s feet beat his to it. Slowly filling his lungs with as much air as they can take in, he puts all his focus on maintaining his pace until he finally -- _finally_ – is able to touch the ends of his toes with Merlin’s. And then, because Merlin has always been better at confrontation than Arthur, Merlin slots one of his own feet in between Arthur’s. Or, perhaps, he slots one of Arthur’s in between his own. Either way, in the end, it’s Arthur who hooks their ankles, rubbing the side of his big toe up and down Merlin’s ankle. And maybe it’s a little weird, and maybe they both have literal cold feet, but rather quickly, Merlin starts to shiver, a soft smile teasing the corners of his lips. And at least for today, everything is okay.


	10. January 10th

“How long has this been going on for?”

“It’s only just gotten this bad today, I swear.”

“Well, you’re taking medicine.”

“Erm, no, I’m not.”

Today, Merlin’s growing cold is much more noticeable. Merlin wakes up hoping that Arthur won’t notice, but of course, Arthur is already awake before him, listening to his slightly labored breathing. But nose stuffed, throat clogging, head dulled, and ears ringing, Merlin assures Arthur that he is just fine.

“I’m great! Would be even better with chocolate milk or a good morning blowjob, but I’m great!”

After a shower and no medicine, he only gets one of the two things he wants.

“I’m not going to blow you while you’re sick.”

“It’s not like it’ll make you sick, as well.”

“So, you do accept that you’re sick?”

“Nope, I’ve got to drive Morgana to meet up with Leon at the doctor’s tomorrow and then I’m hoping to get my hair cut, and then I’m still busy as hell for the rest of the week, so nope, I’m not that sick.”

He spends half of the day in bed and the other half lounging around the kitchen and living room. He would have spent all day there, but they do take the time to attend brunch, as they discover that Elena and Mithian do, in fact, take the long drive to meet them all.

By the end of the night, his stomach is making unpleasant noises that he ignores just as much as he ignores Arthur’s pointed looks, and he has had three whole glasses of chocolate milk throughout the day. At no point, does he take any medicine. He does, however, curl up against Arthur’s thigh and let Arthur read to him as they settle into bed for the night. And as Arthur spends his every last waking moment carding his fingers through Merlin’s hair, well, Merlin just tells himself that it has nothing to do with his head cold and is based entirely on Arthur’s likelihood of missing Merlin’s shaggy curls once he gets them trimmed off tomorrow. He does concede, however, that when Arthur presses a gently kiss to the spot on Merlin’s forehead that he knows that Arthur knows always aches the most, it does feel rather nice.


	11. January 11th

Merlin starts off his morning tired and irritable; then he spends it trying to find an outfit for the day. The world of journalism means that he can go days in suits or days in jeans. Today, Merlin wears jeans. He also almost wears the not feathery jacket that Arthur has now taken to making Cruela De Vil jokes about, but decides against it. Instead, he pairs his dark navy jeans with a striped black and white shirt. The next ten minutes revolve around debating whether the yellow scarf, the black scarf, or the blue and tan scarf will look best under the collar of his green jacket.

“It’s just that the yellow one is so aesthetically pleasing, but the blue and tan one smells so nice, and I’ve been wearing the black one for, like, a week now and I’m obsessed.”

“Oh, I know, Merlin. I have known ever since you first borrowed it off me, proclaiming that it was so nice and warm that you had to make it yours, that you did make it yours.”

“Yeah, well..” he mumbles under his breath, only somewhat hoping that Arthur doesn’t hear him. When Arthur asks him to repeat himself, he sighs and says, “It is nice and warm and fuzzy and big and like,” his voice drifting and quieting again, “it reminds me of you, okay? So, like, whatever. I would say you can have it back, but I like it too much. And, if you really want it back, I know you, and you’ll just take it if you want it back. But you haven’t taken it back yet, so, obviously, for now, it’s mine. Now, tell me what you want for breakfast, or I won’t make you any.”

Neither comment when Merlin walks out the front door, sporting the black scarf.

The day falls apart and builds back up from there.

He doesn’t fall asleep during work, but it is a near miss. He’s tired (exhausted, really), but he’s also stubborn and so, he refuses to take a nap during his lunch break like Morgana tries to guilt him into doing.

“You’re second in command.”

“Yes, so my health is the second most important health. Or, well, third after all the pregnant ladies – and really? What is it with all the pregnant women being pregnant in the winter? It’s the most dangerous time of the year, I don’t care how fun their summer is, mum said it wasn’t safe when she was pregnant with me. So, really, I sympathize.”

“Merlin?”

“Yes, Morgana?”

“If you’re not going to sleep, at least shut up.”

“You know, you sound an awful lot like your brother when you say that.”

“Half-brother, and nonsense. Get back to your lunch.”

After work, Merlin is tasked with driving Morgana to her doctor’s appointment. They’re almost late, only discovering last minute that they aren’t, in fact, half an hour late, but whatever. Merlin snaps at Morgana the entire ride and she snaps back, but whatever. Tons of other vehicles pass them for being too slow because of fucking course they get stuck behind slow cars for half the trip and then a police car for the other half, but whatever. And Leon can’t actually make it to the appointment and so Merlin is stuck as emotional support for the whole thing while he is still fuming, tired, head pounding, and in the middle of a tiff with Morgana, but whatever. And now, Merlin can’t get his hair cut today, like he had truly hoped to, but whatever.

The ride to Leon and Morgana’s is a bit more subdued, Morgana lost in her own silent thoughts and Merlin trying not to scream as two small cars (he hates those things) almost crash into each other on the motorway because they both want to speed in the huge, empty spot at the passing lane, and then again when two individual trucks (bloody well fucking hates those, too) almost collide into his car. All in all, Merlin has to remind himself more times than usual why he prefers driving at night on the motorway than any other time of day, anyways.

When he pulls into a parking spot at home, Merlin is more than ready for dinner and a shower. He has half a mind to hope that Arthur is already home, dinner made or in the process. Needless to say, with his day’s luck, he isn’t all that surprised to find the flat empty; just a little disappointed. 

But then, Arthur does come home and they work together to make spaghetti and meatballs with red sauce. Merlin doesn’t talk about how sick he is and Arthur doesn’t ask, but Arthur does let Merlin complain about Arthur’s ‘witch of a sister.’ 

Tomorrow is going to be even more busy than today, but at least for the night he is able to relax, letting Arthur slowly lead him into soothing away the day’s stress for the both of them. Maybe he will even be able to get in a decent amount of hours of sleep.


	12. January 12th

Today, Arthur wakes to lotion being gently rubbed into his hands by Merlin. Fingers moving slowly, hair an unruly mess, and smile as soft as his own hands, the sight of Merlin sleepy and content is the only memory Arthur really wants to remember about the day.


	13. January 13th

Merlin has grown sicker and even admits to it. Promptly, he lies in, doesn’t shower, and just spends the day feeling like shit.

At night, they fight. Eventually, the fighting abruptly ends because the upstairs neighbors, the ones with the big, loud, angry family, fall into a worse predicament than them. But Merlin and Arthur’s fighting is worse than last time and Merlin goes the whole night with saying less than ten words and they both go to bed without dinner. Except, however, they don’t go to bed together. Merlin, keyed up as ever, spends an extra hour – or maybe he spends two? – silently cleaning almost – just over six eights, because yes, he must measure all intangible things that want to be measured in odd numbers – all of the kitchen and sweeping the floor of the entire apartment, aside from their bed room and en suite. He almost doesn’t clean the hallway bathroom, but, already on a bit of a roll, he turns back around and gives it a thorough sweep. Before he gets ready to go to bed, he pees in the toilet of that bathroom and realizes just how desperately the entire bathroom is in more of a need for a cleaning. It makes him think of the bathroom attached to their bedroom and suddenly realizes that at the rate he’s going, he won’t be having that shower for a long time. Tomorrow, he will have to clean far more.

At first, he thinks he would make a point to silently stay up the whole night and clean the entire flat spotless or until he passes out, but he just can’t do it. The dent of progress he does end up making will have to do for now. Although, as soon as he heads to the bedroom, ready to strip out of his sweaty jumper and joggers, and down to his pants, the washer and dryer chime, alerting him that they have finished their jobs. Merlin uses the extra time and distraction to keep longer away from Arthur. Then, of course, when Merlin goes to retrieve the dirty hamper out of their bedroom, Arthur tries to speak, and Merlin slams the door.

Eventually, skin and hair dampened with sweat, shouldered knotted tight under their newly added invisible weight, Merlin strips down to his pants that of course just have to stick to him, and climbs into bed. He lets himself physically cool down before he pulls the blankets over him, but at some point, he manages it without curling up to Arthur and without Arthur curling up to him. He can’t remember the last hour he smiled.


	14. January 14th

He wakes feeling dirty, more so in the physical sense than any other. With his first meeting of the day not starting until later into the day, Merlin spends his spare alone time continuing to clean the house until he can no longer take the grime and has to wash, not only the bedclothes, but himself, as well. Then, he gets back to cleaning.

Just before he has to head out, the long awaited new refrigerator and freeze arrive. The delivery men seem nice, but Merlin’s stressed mind isn’t moving at the right speed and he has trouble understanding most of the situation. Throughout the entire ordeal, he feels his anxiety spike and he takes a brief moment to wonder if this increased adgeda is due to his lack of medications, or will he always just be like this?

The day overall isn’t too exciting, but at least some of the weight from last night feels different – not quite lighter, but something else entirely.

By the time it is dark and Merlin and Arthur are getting ready for bed, Merlin takes out his laptop on does some research, looking into something nice to buy his mother for her upcoming birthday. He thinks she might like jewelry, so he starts there. A small while later, his mind drifts off to the ring his mother gave him when he was younger and following the biggest journey of his life up to that point without her. He can’t remember how many days it has been since he stopped wearing the ring and considers putting it on, but he doesn’t quite feel like it. Instead, he thinks next of the amber sun necklace he was going to give her two years prior, only to have grown far too fond of it himself. He hasn’t worn it at all this new year, he realizes. Getting up from bed and heading over to his dresser, he decided to resolve that.

Conversation is stilted between Merlin and Arthur, but they do manage to face one another in bed. Though they do not press their bodies together, they do settle for light touches. 

Upon seeing the return of Merlin’s necklace, Arthur, with the hand that has his own mother’s ring on its thumb, gently plays with the silver charm. Merlin reaches up to play with Arthur’s thumb ring at the same time. All in all, Merlin figures that clean bedclothes and tentative touches make for a well enough night and he resolves to end it by grazing Arthur’s forehead with his own before attempting to drift off to sleep.


	15. January 15th

The first half of the first month is the new year is nearly over. Arthur wakes with his ever stiffening cock being fondled by a hand that is not his own. The morning may not be necessarily slow, but it is sensual and a good start to the day.

What Merlin wants to do most today is watch Harry Potter. He doesn’t get around to it, but he still wants to.

Considering that it is a Friday, not much actually happens outside of their usual work routines. At home, they spend most of their night eating popcorn, either from their own hands or each other’s. Soon enough, the conversation turns to salt intake and chapped lips, one of which they explore in detail with theories and tests that lead to inevitable panting on the living room floor.

All in all, it is not too bad of a day.


	16. January 16th

The day proves to be a rather successful one for the most part. It starts with a fuller morning of sleep than has been granted to both Merlin and Arthur for over a week. The extra energy even allows for the men to make a hearty – if somewhat unhealthy – breakfast involving the sharing of a Nutella spread; a rare treat for them both.

Hanging around the shops as they wait for Merlin’s haircut appointment – because finally, just finally, he is getting it done! – Arthur purchases a long needed new air freshener for his car, smelling citrusy and herby, as well as a delightfully chocolate smelling candle because he knows that Merlin will definitely enjoy it.

When Merlin treats Arthur to lunch, his anxiety begins to truly spike and he shoves burning piece of food after burning piece of food into his mouth to distract his mental pains with physical ones. He tries to speak of it, but finds himself laughing it all off a moment later.

The tension leaks into his haircut where he spends the whole time running his mouth with babble to his cousin, Daegal, as he cuts Merlin’s hair. Quieter than usual, skinner than the last time Merlin saw him, and eyes as dark as the bags underneath them, Daegal doesn’t fall too easily for Merlin’s traps when Merlin realizes these difference and tries to goad his cousin into venting to him. He does, however, lead Merlin to the conclusion that he already knew: Daegal, wanting to make a name for himself, but not sure exactly what name to go for, spends his every free minute looking for more and more to busy ways and jobs to keep her out of the house and making more money. Daegal is doing so well for himself and Merlin is so proud. Again, as always, Merlin tells him this. The point he drives home, though, at the end of the appointment, is that he needs to take more care of himself.

Merlin leaves feeling as relieved as he does worried, but only shares some of his thoughts with Arthur before he grows too stressed and frustrated, and needs to stop.

Merlin and Arthur plan to go out to dinner, but just before they’re about to make the final call on a restaurant, Merlin relents. He had to deal with enough anxiety today and he doesn’t need to go through any more. And maybe it is a poor excuse, and maybe Merlin doesn’t truly understand his own reasoning about wanting to curl up at home, but he only needs to stress the point once before Arthur relents, as well.


	17. January 17th

This morning, there is, once again, more sleeping in. Though the morning isn’t as peaceful and easy going as yesterday, it is still a fairly nice morning, regardless, and even though the morning does start off late, by the time Merlin and Arthur are showered and dressed, it is time for them to leave for brunch.

With their friends, Merlin deals with his anxiety better than he did the day before, though there are still some concerns. He feels snappish, not quite wild, but easily tempted to want to lash out. The lashing out doesn’t happen much, but when it does, it is light, not malicious. Almost instantly, he regrets it. Someone (he carefully doesn’t remember who) makes a comment – or maybe it was a question? – about him needing new – or maybe it was another?– medication. Or, maybe they asked about him needing some generally. Pointedly, he hisses and tusks, but doesn’t offer any means of comfort or reconciliation. Nor, it is realized by Arthur, does he apologize.

Once again alone with Arthur, the attitude doesn’t much change. Merlin still cuddles up to Arthur, saying sweet things and granting playful touches, but he also snaps. Another thing he does is growl. Merlin doesn’t talk about it, just tries to accept that making these noises to vent his frustrations is better than lashing out harshly in any worse ways. He understands that, fully resigned without his medication, he is trying to cope. He also understands that there are better methods – in fact, he knows this; really, after all these years of coping, and medications, and professionals trying to ‘help’ (and no, he still can’t accept the forced professional ‘help’ as something that doesn’t need air quotations around it), he knows there are better ways. He just… It’s not that he can’t. But really, he can’t.

They make brownies. They’re delicious, of course, and inspired after the chocolate scented candle that Arthur bought the day before. Last night, they had tried the candle and Arthur had relished in the pure delight that it sent through Merlin. The brownies, Arthur reasoned, were only a logical necessity.

Despite the joys that Merlin and Arthur had about lazing through most of their Sunday day, and then in their bed for a long few hours in the night, Merlin still goes to sleep feeling something red hot and stuck in his throat and chest. When Arthur shifts unconsciously in his sleep, pulling Merlin closer and into his armpit, Merlin’s feelings ebb just enough for him to breathe comfortably – or, at least as comfortably as he can with a stuffy nose.


	18. January 18th

In the early hour of the morning, before the sun even has the chance to consider rising (not that it often shows its face, anyways), Merlin has an anxiety attack. Half withering and half trying to stay still, Merlin panics, half trying not to wake Arthur and half hoping Arthur will wake on his own.

Sometimes Merlin wonders if his thoughts and emotions might be too much for one man to bear. Usually, he reasons that he has made it this far in life, so he must be doing something right. But sometimes, just sometimes… Sometimes, he can’t help but think far differently.

It takes him a while, but eventually, Merlin manages to ease his nerves and doubts. Soon enough, he falls asleep.

Throughout the day, he tries twice, maybe three times, to talk about it. He does not manage this.

Tomorrow will be a very busy day, so Merlin spends his night hoping he will be able to manage enough of a peaceful rest to last him through the day.


	19. January 19th

Three long meetings and a busy lunch break are the foundations for Merlin’s day. The meetings aren’t so bad, just a bit long and tiring towards the end. His lunch break, however rushed along after being stalled by traffic, isn’t exactly the de-stress that he hopes for. He makes the best of it, nonetheless.

Throughout the day, he tries to keep his emotions and habitual babbling in check. For the most part, he maintains it, but there are still moments that he really wishes that he could slow down.

By the time Merlin makes it back home, his bag is heavier, weighed down by paper of all sorts of forms. It hurts his shoulder, but he soldiers on.

Arthur’s day is as busy as any other, except when he finds himself drifting into more worrying thoughts about Merlin than usual. Often, Arthur worries about Merlin. Today, Arthur worries just a tad more. He’s sure there’s no need to raise much concern, but.. Well, for the time being, he will only worry.

The night has nearly reached its full potential of darkness when Arthur arrives home. For reasons he doesn’t voice, he decides to keep Merlin close the whole night through. If Merlin notices, he says nothing.


	20. January 20th

Two meetings back-to-back and Merlin is already tired before they even start. As luck will have it though, he makes it through them both peacefully and in one piece. It is almost as soon as they are over that it all goes down hill.

Not only does he get into a fight with his great uncle, Gaius, but Merlin also goes though a mini breakdown that causes him to stress out and yell. In the end, it is to no avail and the ranting leaves him feeling far too dissatisfied.

To avoid having to relay those particular events to Arthur, Merlin buries himself in his work. To avoid having to communicate at all, he sticks in his ear buds and turn his music up so loud that he knows his ears will ring and his head will hurt more so than usual and more so than has been happening for days. For some sick reason he would rather not think too hard on, he thinks it might settle him. Part of him unreasonably wants it to happen.

Because he can’t deal with the inevitable complaining, Merlin takes a break to clean while Arthur makes dinner. Merlin avoids him, of course, keeping his ear buds in and his music blasting at full volume. He knows he shouldn’t ignore him, especially since he knows how close his boyfriend, family, and friends are and Arthur is bound to have heard the news of Merlin’s row with Gaius already. In the state he’s currently in, he can’t help but to silently rush back to the distraction of his work.

He realizes several minutes later that he has been working on the wrong assignment. Bookmarking it with a sticky note, he attempts to work on the assignments he had originally intended to make progress on. Several minutes after that, he finds that his head has dulled too much to focus on the words on the paper in front of him and instead thinks of Arthur. He decides then to take another break for dinner, hoping that Arthur has saved him leftovers, though Merlin knows he doesn’t deserve them.

As it turns out, Arthur has left him some food. Nonetheless, Merlin keeps his music ringing in his ears.

After clearing up after himself, Merlin pauses for a split second, contemplating talking to Arthur. It isn’t until he walks away without saying a single word that Merlin realizes that he actually wants the comfort, or at the very least, some sort of confrontation.

He forces himself to focus on his work right away.

When Merlin makes a decent dent of progress, he grants himself a shower. It’s when the bathroom door opens as Merlin is in the shower that Merlin realizes that he has spent what must have been minutes on end just standing unmoving under the spray of water. In the next moment, arms crossed over his chest, shoulders hunched, and head bowed, Merlin realizes just how sad he is. And then the shower curtain is pushed aside.

After the sound of the curtain being pulled back into place, the momentary shock of cool air from the tilted bathroom is quickly replaced by the warm front of Arthur’s naked body pressing itself flush against Merlin’s back and Arthur’s arms winding their way across Merlin’s stomach. And then Arthur just holds him. Shoulders slumping slackly and body lazily molding itself against Arthur’s, Merlin aims to pull in an even breath so Arthur doesn’t have to ground all of Merlin. What enters Merlin’s lungs instead is a stuttering inhale that breaks halfway into a sob. Arthur holds him until the shaking subsides. And then Arthur slowly washes Merlin clean.

Once they are both clean, Arthur drags Merlin out of the shower and Arthur gently towels them both dry. Merlin doesn’t say anything, but Arthur doesn’t expect him to.

Dressed in their sleepwear, they climb into bed together facing one another, going cross eyed with how close they’ve pulled themselves into all of the other’s personal space. It is once Merlin nips at Arthur’s nose – warm, unlike Jack Frost has been these past several days – that he realizes they’ve both forgotten to brush their teeth. Pushing himself closer onto Arthur, he decides that they can regret their matching morning breath when they wake up tomorrow.


	21. January 21st

Merlin has a better day today, but he is still sad. He regrets his foot-in-mouth syndrome again. But, he reckons, at least there is no fighting. Instead, he spends a fair amount of time embracing his love of mythology, and so, Merlin concludes that his day is not at all that bad, although he is feeling somewhat ill.

Nevertheless, he finds himself tiptoeing around Arthur when back home at the flat tonight. Arthur lets Merlin know that Arthur is willing to listen, but Merlin only gives small anecdotes of his day. Arthur doesn’t press for more. Out of gratitude -- or maybe it’s the sadness –- Merlin presses himself close to Arthur when they lounge in bed. Dressed in only soft sleep bottoms, Merlin takes advantage of their closeness to pet at the smattering of hair on Arthur’s chest. 

Arthur uses Merlin’s distracted laziness to read the closest of Merlin’s writing from the day that Arthur can reach without jostling Merlin. A few short paragraphs in, Merlin speaks up, adding to and correcting his notes. It shocks Arthur as he had thought that Merlin hadn’t taken any notice to what Arthur was doing. But, Arthur reasons, if Merlin is anything like Arthur -- which he is -- when it comes to being tentative and touchy, then of course Merlin has taken notice to Arthur’s every move. Merlin has probably even been reading right alongside Arthur the whole time.

“Tell me about it?”

The moment Arthur sees he ever lessening guard to Merlin’s bright eyes, Arthur decides right then and there that he will hang onto every word. As if he wasn’t going to anyways.


	22. January 22nd

After a mostly uneventful day, Merlin decides that he will spend his night trying to relax. Because of his recklessness and anxiety, this does not happen.

By what must be the hundredth time that Merlin grabs at Arthur, Arthur finally decides that he has had enough and holds Merlin’s hands as he flails his arms about with hopeless abundance.

It has been a long time since Merlin has gone so long without a daily medication; so long, that neither man can remember the last time. Was it before they started dating? Was it after? These thoughts bring Arthur up short and for a fleeting moment he wonders how he is going to handle this – tries to remember if he has handled this sort of situation before. He contemplates asking Merlin how he would like Arthur to help him cope through this – whatever this happening now is – but in the next moment, Merlin has freed his hands from Arthur to start carding through and tugging at his own hair and Arthur realizes that maybe Merlin is struggling to cope himself. Judging by the sudden light tapping of Merlin’s fists to his forehead that quickly freeze in place before starting to shake and then adding the frantic look in his eyes right before he squeezes them shut, Arthur guesses that his conclusion might be fairly close to being correct.

In bed, Merlin alternates between wriggly stretching his fingers and plowing them through his hair. All the while, his breathing is ragged and strained, his tense full body shaking doing nothing to help the ordeal. Arthur can’t help but wonder if this is it, if this is when Merlin will have the full blown breakdown Arthur knows Merlin has been fearing ever since his doctor let him stop his medication. But curling himself up tight against Arthur, jaw clenched, hands in fists, and body still tightened and quivering, the breakdown never comes. If the sniffling when Arthur pulls Merlin in closer and presses his lips to his forehead without pulling back is anything to go by, Arthur can only hope that breakdown doesn’t hit Merlin too hard, too soon. If anything, Arthur hopes to be the one to take the brunt of it, but he doesn’t tell Merlin this.


	23. January 23rd

The first snowfall of the new year comes today. Merlin spends the first hour he’s awake just watching it through the window. The next several hours are spent reading silently. It’s not until three in the afternoon that Merlin finally leaves the bed, but only to relieve his bladder. He lights a multitude of candles, puts on deodorant, and dresses in thick, black clothing before climbing back onto the bed. Once he settles, he adds occasional writing to his silent routine of reading.

A bottle of water sits untouched on the nightstand and Arthur knows that not once has Merlin tried eating today.

Ah, Arthur can’t help but think, so this is how he’s going to treat his depression today.

“Candles are a nice touch,” he offers by means of getting Merlin to say his first words of the day.

“They’re dusty.” It is all Arthur receives in return and it is then that Arthur realizes he can’t remember the last time they’ve lit any of them, aside from their newly acquired chocolate one. Mixed with the (one? two?) year old fall scents, Arthur finds that the overall aroma isn’t entirely unwelcome.

“I can bring you some more water if you think blowing them out later won’t suffice.”

The look Arthur is granted when Merlin finally looks up at him is one of confusion. He looks pointedly towards the water on the nightstand that Merlin immediately grabs and takes a swig from after a sheepish attempt at a smile.

“Sorry.”

“At least you’re not shaking.”

And maybe it’s the wrong thing to say because Merlin then tenses and grimaces, but he doesn’t try to deny it either. Instead, he twiddles his thumbs. And then he goes back to looking out the window.

“Don’t like the snow. Pretty, but I’m bound to fall on my arse.”

“Maybe it’ll stop soon.”

Merlin makes a noncommittal noise and scratches at his head.

Some short time later, gaze never wavering from the window, Merlin stretches his arm out towards Arthur, palm facing upwards. Arthur takes it for the gesture that it is – Merlin trying to comfort Arthur – and allows himself to be pulled onto the bed. Of his own free will, he lines as much of himself as he can against Merlin’s back, resting his chin on one of Merlin’s shoulders to get a better view of the window for himself. Merlin takes one of Arthur’s hands and wraps the arm attached around him, dragging the hand up his chest until Arthur’s palm rests over Merlin’s steadily beating heart. Merlin lines his own palm up over the back of Arthur’s hand. Scooting up more snuggly and tilting his head, Arthur shifts until he’s comfortable. With his free hand, he plays with Merlin’s toes while Merlin tries to play with Arthur’s fingers.

“It’s sort of boring,” Merlin starts and Arthur shifts his head just enough to let Merlin know he’s listening. “When the snow first falls, you can watch and watch and watch as it covers everything. It’s a whole big show to see. But once most of everything is already covered and the snow just keeps coming, piling up on top of itself, there’s not much more to see. Well, I mean, of course there’s more to see; there’s more snow. But it’s just snow covering snow and there’s nothing exciting in that. And yet the snow keeps coming and we keep watching.”

Arthur finds that he isn’t really sure what to say to that.

The silence carries on for so long that Arthur doesn’t realize he’s fallen into a blank stupor until he’s blinking rapidly at the sound of Merlin’s stomach grumbling. Merlin doesn’t say anything, but his lips are pinched together and his brow is furrowed. Pulling away to stretch languidly, Merlin turns his gaze to the still flickering candles and sighs.

If this moment is what he thinks it is, and Arthur hopes it is, then Arthur decides it best to keep quiet. He waits patiently, hoping Merlin will finally get out of bed in search of food. Though Arthur knows not to push him, he can’t help but want to.

When Merlin actually does get up, Arthur only just stops himself from sighing in relief. But when Merlin heads to the bathroom and turns on the sink, Arthur has to shut his eyes with the effort of holding back a sigh of another kind.

By the time that the water has stopped and its sounds have been replaced by footsteps, then six individual whooshes of breath – presumably to blow out the candles – Arthur’s eyes are still closed. When a hand is placed on Arthur’s shoulder and a soft sounds of, “Thank you for looking out the window with me,” are whispered in his ear, Arthur’s eyes open involuntarily. The first thing they see after the momentary blur of his vision has subsided is a quick flash of Merlin’s backside as he makes his way out of the bedroom doorway and into the hall.

It takes him a few stunned seconds, but eventually Arthur follows suit at a slower pace.

Soon there after, Arthur finds Merlin in the kitchen, putting together a sandwich – if two slices of bread and a few slabs of one thin meat can truly be deemed a sandwich. But, Arthur figures, at least Merlin is eating something of his own free volition.

They sit in the kitchen together, Arthur makes attempts at light conversation, and Merlin, staring out the window, gives replies to Arthur as slowly as he eats his food. Once he’s done with the meat and bread, however, he toys with his plate and Arthur wonders if Merlin is trying to force himself from retreating quickly back to the bedroom. But soon enough, Merlin is up and headed towards the pantry.

He returns soon after with some mixed nuts.

After he has had a small helping of nuts, Merlin takes his time doing the dishes. When Arthur tries to converse with him now, Merlin mostly responds with noises and one word answers. 

Dishes put aside to dry and hands now washed clean, Merlin not-so-subtly hurries to grab a peanut butter treat before making his way back to their room. This time, Arthur doesn’t hold back his sigh. But then Merlin comes back out.

“I just – I need – I mean.” Merlin releases a sigh of his own. “I appreciate your concern. I understand your concern. I know you have concerns. I love you for your concerns, but I need-“ This time, he lets out a low groan of frustration and Arthur notices Merlin’s fingers flinching, as if they want to curl up into fists. “I want to write. But I want to do it alone. By myself. Just for a little bit. And I need you to understand..”

When Merlin pauses this time, he rushes towards Arthur, awkwardly hovering before shyly, perhaps also nervously, putting out his hand. Just as tentatively, Arthur puts his hand in Merlin’s. And then Merlin lifts their joined hands to kiss the back of Arthur’s. 

“I don’t know what I need you to understand. I don’t even know what I need myself to understand, but right now, this is the best that I can make myself do.”

It’s breathed over the back of Arthur’s hand, Merlin’s lips ghosting across the skin. When another kiss is placed there, Arthur can’t help but give in just a little.

“Okay. Okay. But I want you to eat dinner, even if you do so alone.”

Merlin gives his hand more kisses as his promise.

Arthur may not like letting Merlin suffer alone, but he knows that Merlin has been coping far long than Arthur has and Arthur trusts Merlin to know when to ask for help. So, for an hour or two, he lets him go. And then, Merlin comes back to Arthur on his own – or, mostly alone, as he seems to have acquired a blanket and a Dragon stuffed animal that Gwen and Lance bought him on a whim a few months back when he was feeling extra nostalgic for the lizard he raised at his mum’s house as a teenager and had to leave behind when he went off to uni. He doesn’t often talk about it.

Curled up together on the kitchen floor by the heater and eating more peanut butter snacks for an accidental before dinner dessert, they don’t really talk about much. But so long as Merlin’s smile remains soft and light, Arthur figures that the lack of conversation isn’t that big of a loss.


	24. January 24th

Sunday brunch goes better today then it did last week. For one thing, Merlin doesn’t snap or lash out at anyone. For another, he’s smiling. However, the smiles are small and Merlin is quieter than usual. Mostly, he finds himself spending half the time leaning into Arthur and the other half trying not to lean too much on him. 

Merlin knows Arthur is still concerned from yesterday and he doesn’t even need to say it. He doesn’t need to; Merlin already knows. Merlin always knows.

Though he doesn’t say much, he talks a lot more than he did yesterday and most of what he says is to Arthur, so he counts it as progress. Gwaine sends him curious, not concerned – definitely concerned – looks from time to time, and Merlin just counts that as Gwaine being Gwaine – because he doesn’t want to count it as anything else because counting it as anything else means that Merlin is being far more obvious than he’d like in his struggles.

Maybe it’s because Merlin hasn’t shaved in a few days and Gwaine thinks he’s trying to compete.

Back at the flat, he wonders if he’s been spending too much time at home. In the end, he chalks it up to being more concerned about being in bed too much more than being at home.

Familiar comforting tunes play throughout the flat when Merlin is curled up to Arthur on the couch. Arthur, trying to catch up on some leisurely - - 

“What’s a big word for you, Arthur. Don’t hurt yourself.”

“Shut up, Merlin.”

\-- reading, can’t quite catch himself from smiling when Merlin hums and occasionally sings along as he makes his way through the work he’s managed to bring home earlier in the week.

They don’t talk about yesterday, though Merlin thinks Arthur might want to. But Merlin trusts Arthur to be there if and when Merlin does want to talk about it. It’s a lot of trust to put on one person, and after all these years the very idea still makes Merlin a tad nauseous, but he’s working on it. They’re working on it.


	25. January 25th

Awake three hours before his alarms are set to go off, Merlin can’t bring himself to fall back asleep. Sniffling, he listens to the noises of his upstairs neighbors for a time. The parents, he thinks, must be getting up for work while the children – three? four? five of them? – must be readying themselves for school.

The noises finally dwindle down two hours later and Merlin still lies awake on his back staring up at the ceiling. At one point, he turns his head towards the window on Arthur’s side of the bed and notes the sun peaking in. The sun always rises through Arthur’s window and sets through Merlin’s. Merlin could probably write a whole poetry book on his thoughts about that and about the way the golden rays of the sun shine down on Arthur. It encircles his head like a crown.

Taking a peak at the clock, Merlin decides half an hour before his alarms is enough time to turn over and grant Arthur’s sleeping form light, loving touching. Arthur always smiles so softly at Merlin when he wakes Arthur like that.

Merlin is tired. His eyelids ache under the weight of sleep’s heaviness, but he still can’t manage to fall back asleep.

Fifteen minutes later, eyelids fluttering and the corners of his mouth starting to twitch upwards, Arthur starts to show his first signs of wakefulness. When Merlin slowly glides a fingertip down the side of Arthur’s nose, Arthur finally opens his eyes and grants Merlin the ever-loving smile he’s been waiting for. Smiling back, Merlin trails his fingers down to Arthur’s lips and Arthur takes his time kissing each and every fingertip. When he gets to Merlin’s thumb, Arthur nibbles on the pad of skin before opening his mouth just enough for Merlin to slip the digit in for Arthur to suckle and bite.

Pushing the thumb out with his tongue, Arthur asks, “How long before our alarms?”

“Ten minutes,” Merlin replies, checking the clock.

“Been up long?”

Merlin doesn’t really see the point in lying – Arthur knows Merlin has trouble sleeping – but he doesn’t quite feel like admitting to just how much sleep he’s lost.

“A while, yeah.”

Arthur hums in response, but other than a momentary considering look into Merlin’s eyes, he doesn’t comment on the matter further.

“I’m going to kiss you now.”

And Merlin can’t help but smile at that.

“Took you long enough.”

+++++

The rest of the day fairs unwell for Merlin. Head dull, ears ringing, he tries to stay as conscious and focused as he can in his stuffy, overheated workplace. But at one point, the sound of a loudspeaker goes off in his head and ears alone – and he knows no one else hears it because he jolts and gains odd looks from it – and in the next moment finds himself seeing spots of colors and feeling like he might topple over.

When he relays this information to Arthur, Arthur predictably worries.

“You need to see a doctor.”

“Arthur-“

“Please,” and that brings Merlin up short. “It would make me feel better if you would.”

Merlin opens and closes his mouth a few times before swallowing and meeting Arthur’s concerned gaze.

“If it happens again-“

Arthur sighs.

“No, really. If it happens again – and you know that I will tell you if it happens again – then I will go see a doctor. I promise.”

Arthur holds Merlin’s gaze for a brief silence before closing his eyes and nodding. Placing his hands on Arthur’s cheeks and pressing his lips to Arthur’s a few times over, Merlin coaxes Arthur’s gentle gaze upon his again.

Solemnly, he swears, “I promise.”

Arthur still can’t help but to worry.


	26. January 26th

Although the day is an odd one, it is also good. It could be better, Merlin thinks as he smiles too much and laughs too inconsistently. He’s been feeling it for days; losing interest or his train of thought when talking to his friends. He can feel it, every dreadful loss of connection between himself and loyal friends that he knows he is so lucky to have around. And yet, he can’t go a single conversation without feeling the need to talk about anything involving himself that doesn’t include his problems. 

Except, he sometimes does talk about his problems. And when he does, he can’t get an exact read on the looks on his friend’s faces. He can’t really remember when he stopped reading other’s expressions. Is he always this out of focus when he looks people in the face?

Maybe they aren’t entirely concerned since Merlin smiles through it all. But then again, that’s exactly how he wants it.

His head isn’t as bad as yesterday; or at least not when he actively doesn’t think about it. It’s when he does think about it, or when he really drifts off, that he can feel the tender ache, which hurts far more than his smiling cheeks.

There are times he wishes he could speak up and other times he wishes he could bite his tongue off, but that’s not really new.

When he gets home, all he wants to do is face plant onto the bed and for a while, he does.

Arthur rings him a while later to announce that he’s buying take away on his way home and Merlin can’t help but feel relieved despite not having been all that hungry today.

Later, when Merlin is in the shower, Arthur situates himself somewhere outside Merlin’s view behind the shower curtain, and talks to him. It is then that he realizes that he’s been rocking back and forth on his feet with his head in his hands. When Arthur asks if he’s ever going to wash himself – and how did he always know? – Merlin informs him that he’s trying to let the water warm him.

“I’m sure. It would explain why my mirror’s all fogged on.”

It is then that he realizes just how hot he’s had the water set on.

“Conceited ass.”

Merlin can’t help the small smile at Arthur’s laugh.


	27. January 27th

Today is a quiet day for Merlin and one that does not entirely go well. Mostly, he is swamped with work that leaves him pleading silently for sleeping in the very late hours of the night. After all the he had done over the weekend to get himself as far ahead of his schedule as he could, he was still behind as more assignments and changed deadlines had piled up.

Arthur, as it turns out, finds himself even busier with his own work.

It might be needless to say, but they both want a break that they won’t get just yet. Still, they hope to make amends with their tired eyes and stiff backs as soon as the weekend rolls around, if not sooner.


	28. January 28th

Out to lunch with Leon and Lance, Arthur decides to bring up his concerns.

"I'm worried about Merlin."

"When aren't you worried about Merlin?" wonders Lancelot. He has a point, but Arthur won't be swayed.

"I mean more so than usual."

Leon hums his sympathy, nodding.

"Yes, Morgana said that she and Gwen have been trying to keep a closer eye on him. The other day he would hardly smile and then the next he would hardly stop."

It strikes something cold in Arthur's belly, but he forces himself to carry on.

"Has she said anything else? Or Gwen?"

When he shifts his gaze from Leon to Lancelot, he doesn't get the reply he suspects, but then again, he wasn't quite sure what to suspect in the first place. He supposes he just wants some confirmation that his added worries aren't entirely misplaced.

"Gwen says Gwaine has his doubts."

And doesn't that just smack him in the face that Merlin's best friend is so worried that he felt the need to keep his concern from Arthur?

"About what?" he asks for lack of anything better to say.

"Merlin's been off his medicine for about a month now, hasn't he?"

"More or less."  
"So, it's all worn out of his system by now?"

"Long gone," Arthur confirms.

"And how does Merlin like himself as he is without any mood altering or stabilizing pills?"

Arthur opens his mouth to respond, only to snap it shut the next moment when he realizes that he doesn't know. He hasn't, in exact words, bothered to ask. And that's when Arthur realizes just what he needs to do to calm his nerves, even if it heightens his frustrations further for a time -- he has to sit Merlin down and talk to him about how they've both been feeling about all of this.

When he tells this to his friends, they give him their full support.

"Tomorrow is the last Friday of the month," Leon helpfully points out.

Checking his phone's calendar, Arthur finds that Leon is correct.

"How could I forget?" Arthur wonders aloud. He and Merlin have had the tradition of going out on a date on the last Friday of every month ever since Arthur became CEO of his father's (now solely Arthur's) company and became too busy to take Merlin out as much as he used to.

"Don't blame yourself, the last Friday of last month was Christmas. You're just out of swing with your routine."

Instead of giving him as much comfort as Lancelot's words should have given him, they rustle Arthur's nerves further. However, Arthur does have to admit to a fault that his friend is correct. Besides, Merlin hasn't said anything, either.

It doesn't take him long to come up with a plan.


	29. January 29th

Despite his best efforts, and even leaving work early to set up his plans for his surprise date night with Merlin, things do not go according to plan. And what, one might ask, is the deterrent from Arthur's great efforts? Dogs! Dogs being bred!

It's admittedly not the weirdest thing that's thrown a wrench in Arthur and Merlin's plans, but it's certainly up there.

When Merlin's frantic panic minutely softens at Arthur's quiet sputtering of, "B-but it's the last Friday!" Arthur resolves to rearrange his entire plans for the night to take up and be made up for tomorrow.


	30. January 30th

The night before could have gone very well, Arthur muses. But, because the dogs of two separate neighbors got loose and decided to give breeding a try right around the time that Merlin, someone who has raised litters of puppies before, had gotten home, it hadn't. Of course, being the kind person that Merlin is, he had spent a good portion of the night explaining the consequences and possibilities to his frazzled neighbors. And because of Merlin’s big heart and love of animals, Arthur had to rearrange his plans for today.

The only problem with making plans for today is that today is the two year anniversary of Arthur’s father’s death; a fact that Arthur had been forcing himself to ignore until Merlin points it out in the morning.

Arthur’s head goes quiet for a while after that.

With Morgana drowning her sorrows and sufferance in planning the last details of her and Leon’s wedding, they only manage to console one another over the phone with a few quiet words and long stretches of silence.

Mostly, Arthur spends his day curled up with Merlin. At some points they read, at others they talk. For a time, they even play video games – Merlin screaming over his own epic failures and near character deaths while Arthur tries and fails to hold back his laughter.

They even visit their neighbors and the dogs.

It’s a bit weird for Arthur, but Merlin just goes on in head first.

It’s not until past night fall, after Merlin and Arthur have worked together on a nice dinner, and the upstairs neighbors have had another loud row, when they final get to have the talk Arthur’s been meaning to have. And he isn’t even the one to bring it up.

“So,” Merlin starts, eyes trained on the soapy pot he’s washing in the sink. “It’s been about a month without my medicine and I,” he gets cut off by a bang and some more yelling from upstairs before starting again, “I go back on, I think, Tuesday. What do you think?”

Arthur takes a moment to study Merlin, who still won’t look at him, before carefully prompting, “What do you think?”

Tilting his head to one side and scrunching up his nose, shoulders lifting up in a slight hunch, Merlin rabbits on, “Well, I don’t know. I mean, I’ve been anxious and angry and depressive, but when am I not? And I’m happy, too. I feel a lot like when I was on my medication, making me think that maybe it didn’t do much, anyways. And it was mostly a muscle relaxer and now that I’m off it, my joints and back are always so stiff, like I’ve just been sagging for months. And maybe I have; I don’t know. 

“It’s like I feel worse without medication because I know I’m a bit out of control. Like screaming during video games? Perfectly normal for me.”

Arthur snorts and grins ever so slightly. He’s awarded a momentary glare from Merlin before he turns back to some other dish.

“But the shaking and clutching the controller thing when my anxiety is all cracked up even though nothing breakdown worthy is even happening?” He shakes his head. “It’s like being without a medication is the worst thing. But at the same time, it’s like it’s the best because some people say that not having medication is just how a person is as themselves, but other people say that a person like me isn’t themselves without the right medication. But I’ve been through so many medications! We go through the list every time we consider a new one and everything I haven’t tried – which, at this point, seems to be so very little – is just a production or similar to a medication I’ve already taken and rejected. 

“It’s like I can’t win. So, I don’t know. Maybe I just need to ask Alator and see what he says? But, I know him, and he’ll just ask me what I want to do, which is exactly the thing, because I don’t know what I want to do.”

Merlin is panting somewhat by the time he finishes, wide eyes on Arthur and all pretenses of trying to scrub an already clean dish set aside.

In a quiet, almost entirely unguarded voice, Merlin asks, “What do you think?”

And that’s just it, isn’t it? What does Arthur think?

“I think-“ he pauses, clears his throat but not his mind, and slowly tries again, “I think you’ve been a bit under the weather with cold and stress. I think you’ve been distant and picking fights that you fifty-fifty feel the need to fire up or douse in cold water. I feel like you’ve been angry and it’s upset me because I sometimes don’t know what to do and I think the worst part about that is that I can see it in every move that you make that sometimes you don’t even know what you want me to do and then that just makes you angrier or even more upset – not with me, but with yourself or just generally. I think it hurts the both of us. I think-“

And then he pauses, needing a breath, because Merlin is looking at him with such a open and earnest and unguarded expression that Arthur’s breath is taken out of him.

He swallows, and forces himself not to look away despite how vulnerable he feels because he knows that Merlin is just as vulnerable, maybe even more so, and yet he still maintains eye contact with Arthur. Returning it is the least Arthur can do.

“I think that you’re still happy at times, but I know that you can feel yourself distancing from conversations. That you lose interest or attention. I can see it sometimes. I can see you struggle between hating what you're doing and accepting that maybe sometimes you really just don’t care. But then I’ll see that when you really think it over, whether it be the next moment or the next week, it truly upsets you. That you don’t want to do that; that you don’t want to be wanting to do that.”

He stops to take a breath for a different reason entirely this time.

“But most importantly, I know that I’d like for you to talk to me more about all of it.”

And Arthur aches as he watches Merlin battle with himself to not look away, but, too vulnerable, Merlin loses and Arthur pushes himself to continue.

“Even though I know you think it might hurt you to do so.”

Merlin looks back up at Arthur at that and the thrill and comfort it gives Arthur spurs him on to bring it all home.

“And I’m not going to lie to you: it might hurt to talk it out. We might even fight. But,” he remembers all those things Merlin – and their friends, either after they had met Arthur or after they had learned of Merlin’s past and his troubles – had told him about the need for reassurance, “No matter what, I will support you in your final decision, even if I think you’re think – especially if I think you’re wrong, because I know how much you love to try to prove me wrong and because… because if you are ever wrong, I hope you know that there is nothing that I wouldn’t do to be with you for every step of the way towards finding what is right for you.”

It’s not all that’s said tonight, but it is one of the most important things said. Though it does not help Merlin make any decisions about medications, it does help to ease his nerves.

And, after a long, thorough back massage turned something more, just before drifting off to sleep, Arthur is granted his own peace of mind when Merlin pulls him close in the darkness to whisper in his ear, “You’re right for me.”


	31. January 31st

Merlin may be a fool at times, but he is an experienced fool. He knows that things will not be perfect just because he’s eased some comforts in, of, and with Arthur. Nonetheless, at least it’s a little easier to face the day and their group of friends.

They go to brunch, where Morgana and Arthur each exchange a flower on their father’s behalf. Merlin doesn’t remember hearing any talk of plants during the siblings’ phone conversation yesterday, so they must have spoken some time after. From the look on Leon’s face, Merlin suspects that he didn’t know either. In fact, Merlin doesn’t even know that Arthur had has a flower under he pulls it out of his coat pocket the moment he claps eyes on Morgana.

No one questions it aloud.

At one point or another, Merlin starts to notice his friends each looking at him in turn. Merlin only discovers this because almost every time he looks to one of his friends, they’re already looking at him. They usually then look away or smile sheepishly, but Gwaine just keeps staring. It’s a bit creepy and entirely unnerving.

The next time that Merlin catches Gwaine looking, it’s Merlin’s turn to nervously smile and look away. Gwaine, on the other hand, doesn’t get the memo that he should do the same.

Then again, he has been doing this for the better part of a week.

“Alright, Gwaine?” Merlin inquires because he doesn’t know what else to say.

Gwaine makes a noncommittal noise. “Are you?”

And Merlin has to take a breath and a second to think about it.

“I think so, yeah.”

Another minute of Gwaine opening staring at Merlin, and eventually he nods his approval.

“I sure hope so.”

The hand placed on his shoulder feels like a warm welcome that Merlin is wondering his anxiety will keep him from embracing. As much as he wants to rely on his friend, Merlin knows – the hard way and from experience -- that he must be careful in what burdens he lets others help shoulder.

Talking to Arthur is one thing; letting others in is another, especially when Gwaine has seen Merlin at his worst so many times. And if there is one thing Merlin knows for certain, it is that this is not one of Merlin’s worsts.

He still appreciates the sentiment, though.


	32. February 1st

Today, Merlin’s ears ridiculous ears hurt somewhat, he is tired, angry, and slow, but at least he gets off work early due to cancellations on others’ behalves.

At home, he takes some time to clean and relax before running some last minute errands and then preparing dinner for himself and Arthur before Arthur gets home.

For Arthur, his day turns out just fine aside from the stiffness of his back and shoulders from hunching over soon-to-meet-their-deadline reports.

Coming home to a nice smelling dinner and a comfortably exhausted Merlin (and only he could make the two work so nicely) is somewhat of a blessing.

In bed, Merlin rubs out Arthur’s shoulders as he reads Merlin’s current leisure book aloud to him. And after they’ve settled down with the lights out, Merlin quietly confides his doubts, once again, about whether or not to take on a new medicine, and Arthur listens.


	33. February 2nd

It’s not mentally the best day for Merlin. From toe curling anxiety to vein popping anger, from helpless babbling to uncontrollable panic, he’s not even sure that sleep can help him now.

At lunch, he thanks his friends with putting up with him through it all and when they cut in swiftly, saying their usual bout of reassurances, something sick roils in Merlin’s stomach. He thinks they think he intends to apologize, something others – and he himself – have told him off for recently enough to still sting. He tries to clarify and they just keep up their positive affirmations, but it doesn’t settle him as much as he had hoped it would.

He asks Arthur’s opinion again about taking on a new medication but that conversation leaves the feeling of something hot and swelling in his throating.

He escapes to the shower.

In bed, he internally debates whether to hold onto Arthur for dear life or to just stay as close to his side as he can. Arthur makes the decision for him when he pulls Merlin into a loose embrace and kisses the knot between his brows.

It only settles him enough to cause him to fall asleep with enough time to sleep and still be able to comfortably wake up early in the morning before his doctor’s appointment.


	34. February 3rd

"I've been put on a new medication, but the chemist won't have the prescription in until tomorrow. I know we've been talking about me a lot lately, and obviously we need to talk about this, but for a while can we talk about you? I see you every day, but sometimes I think I miss you."

And it only takes Arthur a split second to realize, "I think sometimes I miss you, too."

They decide to try and fix that.


	35. February 4th

Merlin tells someone off at work, but the target of his lashing out deserves it. He shakes with the anger as some coworkers have the audacity to laugh and not appeal to his thoughts. His lunch break consists of one part fury, one part bubbly laughter amongst himself and his friends. 

His most genuine smile is when he sees a happy baby.

During the last hour of his work day, Merlin finds himself far more quieter than he thought he would be.

At home, the upstairs neighbors fight, and Merlin starts his new medication.

Over dinner, Arthur lights some candles as Merlin goes over his day. It doesn’t take long to quietly coax Merlin’s true thoughts behind his actions, but it still makes Arthur ache just the slightest to see Merlin’s small smile through his sadness. He uses his fingers, his lips, his tongue, his teeth, and the food off his forkto make as much of that sadness as he can fade away. Arthur doesn’t see Merlin truly start to shine until he returns Arthur’s advances in kind.

That shine lasts, soft and true, all through Arthur’s droll retelling of his own day. Arthur can’t help but embrace it.

When Merlin starts his new medication, Arthur takes a deep breath and tries his damnedest to embrace that, too.


	36. February 5th

It snows today and the boys spend their day cuddling, copulating, and cleaning.


	37. February 6th

Merlin tries to spend as much time as he can in bed, but eventually, he knows he must get up. Arthur, knowing that Merlin prefers learning to get out of bed on his own accord when he’s in one of his stints, lets Merlin be after assuring that his willingness to give Merlin a helping hand.

“A helping hand,” Merlin snorts. “You’ll push me out of bed, more like.”

And Arthur can’t deny that.

He does, however, light every single candle in their bedroom before heading to the kitchen to make breakfast.

“Stay in bed too long and there won’t be any more of your favorite, nice smelling candles.”

“I’ll just make you buy me more!” Merlin shouts after him.

“Doesn’t mean I’ll do it, even if you were to ask!”

Arthur knows he’d buy more candles, anyways

It doesn’t take Merlin that much longer to get out of bed and join Arthur in the kitchen, Arthur giving him a grateful kiss on Merlin’s way to making himself a cuppa.


	38. February 7th

Today, the Americans watch the Super Bowl, and the Sunday Brunch crew over in England spends their meal discussing what they think Beyoncé’s performance will be like because she’s what’s really important. All in all, they expect the best.

There’s still snow on the ground, but it’s rapidly melting with aid from the warming weather. It’s not a nice day for a long walk in the park, but Merlin and Arthur do walk around the shops. They need groceries, anyways, and Merlin is in the mood to stop at the bookstore for browsing purposes. He doesn’t buy anything, but he has an entire queue of books at home, so he’s not bothered in the slightest.

Back home at the flat, they spend a few hours watching the dogs of their neighbors Mordred and Kara as they go out on their first date. Apparently, the dogs weren’t the only ones in need of some love.

They spend the afternoon letting music and conversation fill the flat in between petting and playing with the dogs. For a while, the couple even spend some time reading. 

Once the dogs have been returned to their happy owners and the slobber and dirt have been washed from Arthur and Merlin, they use their free time to dirty each other’s skin in much more pleasant ways that involve the whip cream bought at the grocery store earlier in the day.


	39. January 8th

It snows again today, and Morgana calls Merlin to tell him and his anxiety not to even bother coming into work today because, “I know how much you hate the snow and how likely you’re bound to fall on your arse the moment you step foot outside. Oh, and I’ll not have you cry over it, either.”

Not trusting the weather himself, and knowing that he and Merlin both have dentist appointments for today, Arthur calls to rearrange their appointments for earlier in the day and skips work so he can drive the both of them. With their appointments being scheduled two hours apart from one another, they are stuck there for three hours. Arthur spends the first two hours working on reports he had taken home from the office over the weekend. The third hour is spent being told to floss more. 

Bloody typical, he thinks.

Merlin spends his first hour at the dentist with his eyes closed and his forehead wrinkled as his mouth is poked and prodded by a dentist he’s never me before but reminds him of his Aunt Alice. Then, he gets told to floss more and use a special nightly toothpaste that should help the dry mouth that is quite possibly being caused by his new medication, but Merlin thinks it may have been an issue for far longer than just a few short days. 

He is none too pleased.

Afterwards, he spends the next two hours doing research, writing, and editing for a piece on Marxism and Freudianism.

He is even less pleased about this.

But three hours later, the boys are driving home in the snow. They’ve taken Merlin’s car because his is built to be sturdier in rough conditions – “Of course my car is all about practicality, have you not met me? I am a disaster on my own two feet; if I’m going to drive, you can bet your arse I’m going to buy a car I can bloody well depend on.” – with Merlin yabbering on all the while about how terrifying the roads are and would Arthur please slow the speed of the windshield wipers because their squeaking has nothing to do with needing to be replaced and everything to do with the fact that the window is completely dry and the damn wipers aren’t making any of this any blood better or more bearable?

After greeting and sending regards to the neighboring dogs, Merlin and Arthur spend the night gorging on cheesy garlic bread, Mexican rice, beef, and crisps as they watch spy movies in between getting as much work done as they can.

In bed, Merlin snuffling and burying his cold hands and feet between Arthur’s body and the bedclothes, Arthur is momentarily reminded of that old song where the singer asks themselves how long it’s been since they said, “I love you” to their partner, or something of the like, when it played in the waiting room of the dentist. 

Arthur doesn’t need to ask himself the question; they had said it earlier that day. 

Still..

“I love you.”

One cold hand making its way under Arthur’s sleep shirt and light over his skin, Merlin looks up at Arthur, not having to fish too long for his eyes. When Merlin’s questing fingertips reach Arthur’s ribs, he splays out his fingers and his whole hand presses down to cover as much skin as it possibly can. In that moment, the chill isn’t the only thing that causes Arthur to shiver. First biting the inside corner of his lower lip, then giving up the fight and letting a soft smile win over his face, Merlin returns Arthur’s every affection.

“I love you.”


	40. February 9th

Despite the snow and the continuous reminders of his ever creeping up deadlines, Melrin has a fairly positive day. He was interested and found himself informed at a meeting centered around politics. Then at lunch, he saw a couple dressed as if they had just stepped out of the twenty’s, got to see more happy babies, and had a few laughs over the oldies and foreign remixed that played over the restaurant’s radio.

Content enough with his day, Merlin goes home with the desire to make cheesy garlic bread to go along with dinner. Promptly, he does just that.

When Arthur comes home, Merlin greets him with a longer kiss than usual, and when Arthur asks, “What was that about?” all Merlin can do is smile and shrug.

Not so secretly, Arthur doesn’t mind.


	41. February 10th

A very light snowfall hits the area, but Merlin readies himself for work with only somewhat more of a complaint than usual, so Arthur tries not to worry any more than usual. And with a quick nip on the nose because, “Jack Frost needs to be reminded that you and your cute nose are all mine,” Arthur sends Merlin on his way.

Work for Arthur is better than usual for today, as he finds himself with an extended lunch hour due to a meeting cancellation. Checking if Merlin has any free time, and being confirmed that he does, Arthur opts to meet him at the new sandwich place that was added over the holidays to the library exactly in the halfway distance across town between their two offices. While Arthur finds himself not all that impressed with his lunch choice, he still finds himself enjoying his meal and Merlin’s happy company.

Maybe it will be worth it to try this establishment again.

On Arthur’s way back to the office, he buys another candle on a spur of the moment lark. When he later lights it alongside their small bedroom collection, Merlin concludes that Arthur has made a wonderful purchase. Admiring the soppily content sparkle in Merlin’s eyes, Arthur can’t help but to agree.


	42. February 11th

To begin winding down after such a good day, Merlin decides to go grocery shopping to not only stock up for the drive for Morgana and Leon's wedding retreat this weekend, but also to find something appetizing to make for dinner tonight. The only thing that could make the trip any better would be if the car parked in front of Merlin's, the one that looks like Arthur's, really could be Arthur's. And the fact that the license plate seems so very familiar isn't really helping. Add to that that the man looking directly into his sideview mirror is cute, blonde, and even looks a bit like...

Rolling down his window, Merlin sticks one arm out and shouts, "Arthur!?"

Suddenly, the confused-turned-shocked-turned-delighted face in the mirror is blocked by an arm.

"Merlin?"

Oh. Oh! That is Arthur!

"It's you! Arthur, it's you!"

The reply is muffled by the wind, but Merlin thinks he makes out, "Of course it's me! Who else would it be!" but he can't be sure. To resolve the matter, he decides to brave the cold and get out of his car. Quickly, he bounds over to Arthur's door, leaning down to rest against the windowsill.

"Fancy seeing you here." And he sweeps down for a kiss, which Arthur reciprocates as a smile teases the twitching and tugging corners of his lips.

"Well, this is where I normally go grocery shopping."

Merlin hums a happy noise. "I was going to do that today."

The upturn of Arthur's mouth starts to make its breakthrough as an eyebrow lifts.

"I can see that."

"Was going to make you dinner, too."

And of course, that pushes Arthur over the edge to dimpling his cheeks fondly.

"Yeah?"

Merlin hums again and apparently Arthur can't help but to kiss him for it.

"Yeah," comes out breathily.

"Maybe we can make it together after we've finished shopping, then."

Turns out, Merlin doesn't really get to wind down until he's stuffed, sated, satisfied, and nearly sleeping.


	43. February 12th

Nothing really significant really happens today for neither Merlin nor Arthur. Stocked up on snacks, gas tank filled, and bags packed for their weekend trip, the only thing left to do is to stay a little overtime at work. Comfortably tired at home, the boys settle on a simple day of boxed macaroni and cheese -- Merlin's absolute comfort food, the child at heart -- and bunker down together in bed, reading aloud to one another until the call of sleep is too tempting to ignore.


	44. February 13th

Arthur wakes with a groan. Chuckling lowly, Merlin keeps circling his hips back against Arthur's groin.

"Time?" Merlin hears croaked into his ear.

"Early enough."

"If we're late to anything, Morgana will kill us."

But Arthur is lifting Merlin's leg back and up over his own, hitching his hips back and forth.

"'M still a bit open from last night."

They start their several hour long trip to the fancy hotel Morgana and Leon have rented out for their wedding just a hair's breath later than they had hoped to. A few broken speed limits and one or two excused bathroom breaks later, they make it just on time to check into their room and make their way to the rehearsal dinner.


	45. February 14th

“I remember when Morgana told me that she had chosen Valentine’s Day as the date of her wedding, and I thought, ‘Oh, how romantic!’ And then I remembered that it’s her least favorite day of the year – not that you aren’t romantic or anything, Morgana, I mean really, this wedding is all so beautiful—“

“Thank you, again, Gwen.”

“Of course. But anyways, a split second later, to add to the fact, I remember you, Morgana, having the most devious smile on your face – oh! Yes! That’s the one! – and then you said—“

“The most gaggorific day of the year for me, but a favorite for almost everyone else, and now over a hundred people will be forever forced to celebrate the day around me from now throughout the rest of my life and lives of any heirs I spawn. So really, for a great number, the day is forever ruined to them as a whole day dedicated to me.”

“And Leon,” Elyan adds.

“Eh,” Morgana shrugs, but she hasn’t stopped rubbing fondly at Leon’s arm that she’s been leaning on for the past half hour or so. And Leon is smiling.

“So, when it’s your turn, Arthur, will Morgana be leading you down the aisle since you led her down?” Gwaine, the bastard that he is, just has to ask.

“One,” Arthur removes his hand from its spot on Merlin’s hip to grab at Merlin’s hand and counts on Merlin’s fingers. “Neither of us has proposed. Two: who says I’ll be the one given away? If anything, I know for a fact that Hunith wants to give her son away at our wedding.”

“What?”

Ignoring Merlin, Arthur continues. “Three: your main concern should be whether or not we invite you to the wedding that doesn’t even exist.”

“Yet,” Lancelot insists.

“Yet,” Arthur confides.

“Um, sorry,” Merlin chimes in. “But do I get any say in this?”

Wedding talk centered around Merlin and Arthur is nothing new, but-

“And must we really bring this up now? I mean, it is Morgana’s special day.” A beat later he adds, “And Leon’s.”

Leon lifts his drink in toast to himself, his fellow tablemates shortly following after.

“We’ve already had our wedding fun, all the real excitement doesn’t come until we leave for the honeymoon tomorrow. Naturally, other than the sex later – stop groaning Arthur, don’t think I don’t know what you and Merlin plan to do later—“

“Morgana!”

“Other than and until sex, watching Merlin’s cute Dumbo ears turn pink will have to be our main entertainment.”

Taking offense for completely different reasons – Merlin because he can’t help having been born with such ears, and Arthur because he really fucking loves those ears – both Merlin and Arthur raise their hands to momentarily cover Merlin’s ears.

“Remind me again why I’m suffering through this?”

“Because we haven’t missed a single brunch in months and this is the only way to make up for that time and I refuse to leave until we’ve all shared that time together.” A pause. “Plus, George, spectacular wedding planner and most likely robot that he is, won’t let us leave until, and I quote, ‘the most optimum and perfect moment of escape.’”

“That man is a wonder.”

“I hate him.”

“You bitch, Merlin, you’ve distracted us. We were talking about you.”

“And your brother.”

“I guess.”

“You guess? How can you guess? It was our nonexistent wedding that we were talking about.”

“I think Arthur would make a lovely bride,” Elena confides in Gwaine who actually has the audacity to chortle. 

“Oh, I think so, too,” Merlin faux simpers, much to Morgana’s snorting amusement.

“I’m not inviting any of you to my nonexistent wedding.”

“That’s alright, I’ll invite you all!”

“Thanks, Merlin,” a round of cheers go up and Merlin beams.

Watching that smile now, Arthur wonders, not for the first time, how long he can really allow himself to hold out on the ring he purchased months ago.

Having to go through this whole conversation makes Merlin wonder whether the wedding fever that he had thought was trying to catch up to him earlier in the day, causing him to cast around in his pocket from time to time for the ring he purchased weeks ago was more obvious than he thought.


	46. February 15th

They wake up later than usual, but earlier than their alarms and use the extra free time before checkout to make use of the gloriously large bathtub in their hotel room’s en suite. Good thing, too, they think when they get home that night, because they’re out of oil and they're left with no other option but to take cold showers before bed. But, once in bed, they make up for the lack of heat by creating friction between their bodies and the bedclothes.


	47. February 16th

Despite having snowed in the night, the day quickly rids most of the ground of it when the temperature raises immensely and it starts to pour. Merlin loves it, but he would love it even more if there was no snow in the first place. 

Work is good and humming for Merlin, and some light traffic doesn't even seem to deter his good mood. 

At home, Merlin is left alone for a handful of hours as Arthur has to make up for some lost time at the office.

Though a bloke form the oil company comes, by the time Merlin goes to take a shower, the water is still freezes. Merlin forces himself to power through it.

By the time Merlin is in bed, it is late, he is grumbly, exhausted from forcing himself to work on assignments due tomorrow that he should have started days ago, and feeling somewhat sick to his stomach for no good reason other than blaming it on returning thoughts of the editorial he had to review that morning on self hatred and self punishment and other such things. But most importantly, he is still alone. It only takes him a few tosses and turns before he gives in and gives Arthur a call.

He picks up far quicker than Merlin anticipates and the moment of shock causes him to blurt out his first thought before Arthur can so much as get out a greeting.

"I can't sleep without you."

After a breath-holding pause, he hears, "Well, then." And he thinks he hears the front doorknob jangling, but he's already thought he heard that damn door at least six times already, so he knows it can't be true this time. Except... "It's a good thing that I've just gotten in."

Cold air be damned, he makes a run for it.


	48. February 17th

After a long, tiresome day at the office, Arthur comes home to find Merlin sprawled in bed and fast asleep. Setting an alarm and stripping down to his pants, Arthur joins him. Arthur tries to pull Merlin in close as carefully as he can without waking him, and in his sleep, he instinctually curls up to Arthur, making soft mewling sounds all the while. It helps to put Arthur to sleep in no time.


	49. February 18th

With one major project done, Merlin finds his relief short-lived. He still has more deadlines to meet. And yet despite this, Merlin finds himself smiling most of the day.

And then he says some things that he thinks might be funny or that he wants to come across one way that end up interpreted completely far from the mark. It makes him feel sick with himself, but he keeps on smiling.

Arthur gains a mild headache from the board meetings he attends. By the time that he’s on his way home to Merlin, the ache has dulled immensely.

The first thing he hears when he opens the front door is, “Is it the weekend yet?” and thinks his laughter might just cure his headache all together. If not, there’s always Merlin’s smiling face.


	50. February 19th

Fingertips trailing feather light down Merlin’s spine, the lingering burnt out scents of campfire, pumpkins, and apples filling the air, and the darkness of night falling over their bodies, Arthur takes a deep breath, releasing it against the side of Merlin’s neck. The reacting shiver it entices from his partner brings Arthur a fresh renewal of contentment. For the moment, he thinks, he can rest easy.


	51. February 20th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So sorry that this is so short, but inspiration struck only momentarily for me today, and it was Doctor Who fic based :l

They sleep in for a short while and then spend the day watching old Doctor Who reruns.

"Could you imagine that? Being separated and spending the rest of your life trying to get back together?"

"I'd spend forever searching and waiting for you."

There are quite a few tears.


	52. February 21st

Brunch is a quieter affair than usual without Morgana and Leon, but Gwaine tries his damndest to make up for their absence with his own boisterous stories. Merlin takes great amusement in pretending to give his undivided attention to him. While it takes Gwaine a while to see past Merlin's antics, Arthur and Gwen catch on far quicker. This elicits a game between the two of them to see which one of them will crack first under the pressure not to laugh. Unaware that they were even playing alongside them, Lancelot loses and Percival wins. When Gwaine learns of his friend's games, he overdramatizes his offense, causing the group to break out with even more joy.

Much later, at home, Arthur lights a few candles when he reads to Merlin before they turn in for bed.


	53. February 22nd

Arthur is tired; really, very tired, and it only mostly has to do with exhaustion. Listening to the quiet of the office, he thinks that maybe his employees are, too. The rhythmic typing of keyboards throughout each floor might just be enough to lull him to sleep if he isn't too careful.

The other reason for his to be tired is something he would rather not quite address about his uncle's lack of moral values and sense of duty.

Dinner, once at home with Merlin, is a quiet affair and comes across so suddenly that Arthur has to pause for a moment to make sure that he hasn't magically or skipped time or entirely spaced out. It earns him an odd look from Merlin.

It's not until he's finished washing the dishes that he realize that all his built up exhaustions and tensions have tightened up his shoulders. Breezing through the bedroom and brushing past Merlin with hardly a word, he decides to take a hot shower in attempt to find some relief.

It doesn't really help.

But then -- and he must have been so distracted to not have even heard Merlin come in, because when Arthur gets out of the shower, there Merlin is, towel at the ready to tie around his hips and arms to wrap eager to wind around his torso.


	54. February 23rd

"How are you doing?" Merlin asks him that all the time, especially when he feels like they might be talking about him too much (but Merlin doesn't seem to understand that Arthur would talk about Merlin forever if he could).

There's something different about the way he asks it this time and Arthur knows exactly what that is. He takes a silent moment to debate whether or not to indulge him and he thinks he can see Merlin ready himself to say that he knows that Arthur isn't fine, that he doesn't get to say that because Merlin says that all the time. Arthur knows that Merlin wouldn't say that, though; they've talked about it, how it's unfair of Merlin to be able to smile and lie through his teeth saying that he's fine, but Arthur isn't.

Still, it's tempting.

Arthur must be too quiet for too long, because eventually Merlin babbles, "I know that things haven't really been the best for me and that it's caused some rifts between us and then you've spent time worrying about me, probably to distract yourself, because I know you've been struggling with your own stuff and I want to remind you that I am here for you. I'll listen."

At the end of Merlin's little speech, it's Arthur who takes a deep breath. He holds it. And holds it. For some reason, he doesn't quite feel like letting it go.

"Breathe."

So he does.

"Just- just hold me."


	55. February 24th

He tries to keep silent, really he does. Alas, this does not happen. And sure, he doesn't really address any of his problems -- those, he do keep silent about --, but he comes close. In response, Arthur gets to learn about the opinions that some of his most esteemed colleagues hold about him. He is none too pleased, and he does keep silent about that.

Tired, hurt, and maybe a tad lost, Arthur quietly makes his way home to Merlin.

Hair a mess and with a smile on his face, Merlin chimes, "There's going to be a storm tonight." Loving seeing Merlin happy, Arthur really hopes his own storm can wait.


	56. February 25th

In the middle of the night, the storm sounds and tenses the air even through the closed bedroom windows. It keeps Arthur and Merlin awake, but that’s alright; they love a good storm. Besides, the cleansing of the Earth’s floor mirrors the cleansing of Arthur’s mood when he wakes bright and happy in the morning.

He even manages to wear a nice red tie with his custom dark suit.

And then he spends the whole day in joy.

Merlin relishes in Arthur’s smile when he gets home.

“Good day?” he asks with a smile of his own.

Arthur honest to god hums in response. “Would be even better if we didn’t have work tomorrow so we could sleep in.”

Merlin laughs at that. “You’re getting off early tomorrow, aren’t you? Isn’t that enough for you?”

Making a face, as if truly contemplating the idea, Arthur looks at Merlin for a second.

“No, that’s less time in bed with you.”

Attempting to keep a straight face, Merlin shrugs and suggests, “Oh, well, I mean, I we could always just…” The corners of his lip twitch. “Go to bed earlier tonight.”

“Like now?”

And the smile wins out.


	57. February 26th

“How was work?”

“I definitely didn’t spend half the day in my office binge watching Fuller House.”

A pause.

“Willing to binge watch it a second time?”

“Oh, thank god, I thought you’d never ask.”


	58. February 27th

“Yep,” Merlin breathily exclaimed. “I’d put good money on betting that she’s pregnant.

Today, Merlin and Arthur are invited to visit Mordred, Kara, and their dogs. Never one to pass up the opportunity to pet an animal, Merlin readily agrees.

“That’s what we’re hoping.” And it makes Merlin happy that the newly happy couple has decided to raise and sell the puppies if they ever do come, so Merlin’s eager joy brightens Arthur. But seeing Merlin attempt not to putter over the new couple, well, it reminds Arthur of their first few months of dating and—

For what must be the dozen or so time, Kara and Mordred share a secret look and for the first time, instead of Merlin noticing first and tapping Arthur’s foot with his own, Arthur is the one to notice. When he taps his foot against Merlin’s, he looks over to Arthur to share a look of his own.

\-- my, how they’ve grown.

+++++

"Have I told you yet today how much I love you?" Merlin asks Arthur because he genuinely cannot remember if he has or not. Surely, he most definitely has thought it, but has he said it? 

Raising his eyebrows, Arthur tells him, "You have not, but it doesn't mean I don't already know."

And Merlin smiles at that.

"So, if I were to tell you -- to remind you, really -- how much I love you, would you consider letting us keep one of the puppies if they ever come?"

One of Arthur's eyebrows goes down as his face blanks out and he stares silently at Merlin. Merlin tries not to let it phase him. Letting his smile grow, he slinks on over to Arthur, taking a deep breath -- but not too deep, as he has yet another developing cold -- and placing his hands lightly on the thin fabric of Arthur's t-shirt. He pecks at Arthur's lips over and over as his nails dig slightly into the shirt. Slowly, he tries to lead Arthur backwards to the couch.

"We don't even know if there are going to be puppies yet," interjects Arthur, but he's still walking backwards.

"Oh, I'm sure there will be."

Hearing the soft thump of the back of Arthur's knees hitting the couch, Merlin eases Arthur to lie back on it, following overtop him all the while, easily straddling him. Arthur puts one arm out to steady himself, using the other to wrap around Merlin and pull him in closer. Tilting his head, he tries to lean in for a kiss. 

Pulling back just a bit, Merlin chides him, "You haven't answered my question."

Arthur, the bastard, takes the opportunity to nibble at Merlin's neck instead.

"I don't quite think I'm in the position to be making such a promise."

Wriggling in tight, slow circles, with gradually add pressure, Merlin grants Arthur a single kiss before whispering against his lips, "You're about to be."


	59. February 28th

Elyan comes to brunch today, bringing with him Girl Scout cookies that he acquired from his newly returned from trip to America.

“You’re my favorite brother of Gwen’s,” Merlin says in attempted persuasion of being given some treats.

“I’m Gwen’s only brother. In fact, last I checked, I am Gwen’s only sibling. Period.”

“Yeah, but you’re still my favorite,” with a smile, Merlin tries to charm.

But perhaps the foreign sweets aren’t enough, because when Merlin and Arthur go grocery shopping afterwards, Merlin purchases some gummy bears.

“What?” he asks of Arthur’s inquisitive look. “I’ve been craving some real ones ever since you picked up those adult vitamin gummies the other week.”

With that explanation, Arthur finds that he actually isn’t the least bit surprised.

For most of the day, things between Merlin and Arthur remain passive and peaceful. By sunset, however, doubt of the following weeks comes creeping in with the oncoming cold of the night.


	60. February 29th

“We forgot to have a date on the last Friday of the month.”

Blinking once, twice, one hand stopping in mid-air with a manila folder in its grasp and the other holding one end of a pen while the other taps against his bottom lip, Merlin looks up over to Arthur.

“What?” he slowly asks as Arthur’s words take a moment to sink in. And then he feels his eyes widen. “Holy shit.”

“That’s the third time in a row.”

“Can’t really fault the last two, though, can we?” Merlin asks, remembering Christmas and then the dog fiasco.

“Well, no, but still.”

And when Merlin notices that Arthur looks downright put out, he decides to resolve the issue the only way he can think to.

“We’ll just have to make up for it then.”

Arching a brow, Arthur disbelievingly inquires, “And how do you propose we do that? Time travel?”

Having none of it, Merlin silently elects to ignore Arthur in favor of leaving the room with a smile.

“Where are you going?” Arthur calls after him.

“To get my laptop.”

“I swear on my own life, Merlin, if you think you can make this better with porn…”

Trying not to laugh, and giving nothing away, Merlin hums, “Now there’s an idea.”

A few seconds later comes the hesitant reply of, “You can’t actually be serious?”

Returning with his laptop and charger in his arms, Merlin shakes his head and smiles. Arthur breathes a sigh a relief.

“Oh, thank god. What is it then?”

“Well, we’ve already showered for the night, so you’ll have to wait for tomorrow.”

Arthur groans.

“Fine, but I call claim on dinner.”

“Fine by me.” Merlin’s cheeks dimple.


	61. March 1st

“Cant, can’t, can’t, can’t, can’t, can’t,” flexing his fingers and panting slightly with every breath, Arthur murmurs under his breath.

For a change, Arthur is home earlier than Merlin, though he doesn’t know why. It’s not entirely unusual, just uncommon. Having had a good day for the most part, Arthur would have expected to take to the night easily, already having a meal planned out in his head and the exact candles for the centerpiece picked out. Turns out, however, just as Arthur starts taking out his cooking utensils, a breakdown sets off.

However many minutes later and he finds himself in the bedroom, a whole milligram – make that two – of prescription Xanax swallowed in his haste to ease back the storm, and familiar but not often listened to music playing loud enough in his ears so that he can only briefly hear the breathy puttering “can’ts” until they stop.

And then he just sits there.

Eventually, he comes back to himself enough to listen to the words of the current playing song. He checks his phone and thinks to himself that it figures that of all the things to listen to, his panicking state went for the playlist he made of songs on his phone that remind him of Merlin. But with that thought, he suddenly feels ashamed. They were supposed to have a good night.

“Arthur?”

“Shit,” Arthur whispers.

“I know you’re here; your car’s out there by mine.”

Well, Arthur figures, no better time than the present.

Approaching the entryway, the first thing Arthur takes note of is Merlin’s pleased smile.

“Ah, there you a- are you alright?”

And isn’t that just so very much like Merlin? To notice even the smallest of Arthur’s ticks? But then again, this is nothing small.

“You’re very good at deflecting your problems,” Arthur finds himself starting off. Merlin’s lips start to part, as if he has something to say to that, but Arthur cuts him off before he has the chance. “But I’m very good at deflecting the acknowledgement that I have any problems.” And that’s just the crux of it, Arthur thinks. “Oh, and I didn’t get the chance to start dinner because I had a panic attack, or maybe it was an anxiety attack, so I think we should get to it. The dinner, I mean.”

Merlin sighs, “Oh, Arthur.”

“I don’t know what to do.” For some reason, Arthur can’t help but to laugh but it feels wrong. “About dinner or my problems.”

Then next thing he knows, he’s hiccupping and his face is wet, both of which are unpleasant experiences.

“I just don’t. I don’t, I don’t, I _can’t_.”

He just wants Merlin to hold him and perhaps his lover read his mind, or maybe Arthur said the words out loud, because at least Arthur gets _that_.


	62. March 2nd

All Arthur really wants to do today is shut up and sleep. Instead, he leads a meeting, prepares a lovely supper for himself and Merlin, and even stays up way late working on a presentation. All the while, Merlin offers his appreciates, approvals, affections, and advice, but it all feels empty to Arthur. The glint of _something_ in Merlin's eyes keeps Arthur going and cuddling to his partner closer, though, despite the feelings of anxiety and an oncoming cold.


	63. March 3rd

Peppering Merlin's sorrowed face in kisses after hearing the news that Kara's dog's possible one puppy might not make it or turn out right, Arthur swears, "We, the two of us together, will have a most wonderful night tomorrow as soon as we are both home."


	64. March 4th

In celebration of Elyan's birthday, the gang goes out to a lobster house for dinner.

"I'll drive this time, if you want to have a drink?" Arthur offers to Merlin.

"You don't have to," Merlin insists.

"I know." And he does know, just as much as he knows that Merlin would never ask it of him. Just as much as he knows that Merlin would unpromptedly do the same for him.


	65. March 5th

The breath at his ear startles him into wakefulness, but he is ladened with the heaviness of exhaustion that comes from a long week of little dalliance.

“Wake up.”

He bemoans his displeasure through sounds, not yet wanting to get out of bed or open his eyes, let alone his mouth.

The noises of displeasure quickly sing a higher praise when Merlin shuts up and begins placing kisses along Arthur’s shoulder blades and backside.

“Wake up.”

Arthur’s moans return to their begrudging stance once more.

“Wake up.”

It’s whispered over his spine. Merlin places another kiss to the skin as he slowly makes his way down Arthur’s back, chanting his command the whole trip down. A bite to the skin above his crack gives causes of Arthur to jerk, placing him more on his stomach than his side. His hips start to inclining rut into the mattress when Arthur realizes just how stiff his cock has grown. It makes the noises of pleasure start back up again, albeit lazily, as Arthur feels sleep beckoning back at his consciousness. His movements begin to slow to a stop.

“Wake up.”

Arthur grunts.

“Come on, early spring cleaning was your idea, so get up.”

“How are you even awake?” Arthur finally gives in and asks. “You were drunk.”

“Yes, but you made sure I had water to drink as soon as we got home.” A tender few kisses along his spine are the thanks Arthur receives. “Then I was out like a light and I know you stayed up for a while after, but I want you up now.”

Still wanting to bide his time in bed, Arthur thinks about what to say, then starts speaking slowly.

“I only really wanted to just reorganize the bedroom, Merlin. You know, put away some of the heavier coats and take out some of the lighter ones. Maybe go through the drawers.” He pauses. “Besides, you have that report to work on, if you want to make your presentation on Monday.” And then, turning over in bed, he comes to a realization. Starring down a wide-eyed Merlin, he accuses, “You just want to avoid your project and make me forget about you asking me to make sure you do it, don’t you?”

“No,” Merlin answers far too quickly to be casual.

“This is a terrible way of avoiding it,” Arthur notes. “If I were you, I would have started out with sex. Or at least, some breakfast.”

Scoffing, Merlin rolls his eyes.

“I was saving that particular activity for later if you must know.”

“Which one? Sex or breakfast?” Arthur asks and it earns him a smack on the arse.

“Come on. Get up. I’ve breakfast waiting and it’s your turn to pick the music. I’m thinking either Mika or 40’s jazz, but it’s your call.”

“Mika for cleaning, jazz afterwards. What did you cook me?”

“Who’s to say I cooked for you?”

“Because I’m wonderful,” Arthur points out like it’s obvious and Merlin laughs.

+++

By the time Merlin is belting out, “Where have all the good guys / Where have all the good guys / Where have all the good guys gone?” Arthur is yelling out, “Back to bed!” And Merlin can’t help laughing again because he has to hand it to him, Arthur can be rather stubborn about sleeping in.

+++

By the time the slow jazz is playing, Arthur has swept Merlin into his swaying arms so that he can whisper-sing the words against his lover's forehead, his lips, his ears, his chin, his neck, his shoulder, his mouth, the eyelids of his closed eyes.


	66. March 6th

"Don't you have work to do for your presentation tomorrow?"

"Yeah, but Jack put his scarf around Phryne's neck and then didn't even notice when the entire crowd got up to cheer. I can't just stop watching now."

"Merlin?"

"Mm?"

Arthur closes the lid of the laptop shut.

"You know, I need my laptop to work on my presentation.."

Raising an eyebrow and keeping silent, Arthur waits.

"Okay, fine, I'll do my stupid project."

Arthur rewards Merlin with a kiss to the back of his ear and Merlin only grumbles a little bit after that.


	67. March 7th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um.... So, Damien comes out today, I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow, and I have a midterm paper due that I still haven't gotten to even though it's 9:30 at night and I'm watching Netflix and writing this instead, and so my ideas are pretty shot right now, and this isn't even a proper sentence.This chapter is in honor of Bradley James and Damien, I suppose.

“Did you know that it takes sixty-six days to form a solid habit?” Merlin asks Arthur.

“Oh yeah?” inquires Arthur.

“Mm, and it’s the sixty-seventh day of the New Year.”

“And what habit have you picked up?”

“Writing,” Merlin states.

Arthur arches a brow. “You’re a writer, you write every day.”

“Yes, but this writing is different.”

“What’s so different about it?”

“It’s all for you.”


	68. March 8th

Merlin goes back to the doctor’s today. He arrives just at the exact time that his appointment is scheduled for and that leaves him stuck in a room full of the elderly for the next half an hour. His coat put on the chair beside him, he waits for someone to call him over to have his vitals taken. Apparently the waiting room is far too busy to let that happen, which is strange as earlier he had noted the half emptiness of the parking lot and thought to himself that most people must not want to have a doctor’s appointment at half nine in the morning – he certainly doesn’t.

It’s a shame really that he’s stuck here. While Merlin had gotten all his Monday projects done on time, he has only just started on a bigger one due today.

If only he had cancelled this appointment or started his project sooner like he had told himself he should have done.

But then, he gets called back and he finds the appointment a lot quicker than usual. Oh, and they decide to bump up the dosage on his medicine which was something he was hoping for.

At work, he makes closer acquaintances with a few fellow coworkers. Turns out, they get alone just as swimmingly as he thought they would. They don’t even mind when he works on his project while they talk. But, with the sun out and the temperature rising, Merlin thinks they might just all be happy to be outside.

In order to finish the project on time, Merlin skips a meeting – something he never does, so he figures that he can’t be faulted for doing so just this once. Besides, nothing important is bound to result of this particular meeting. And anyways, it is far too nice outside to be stuck inside.

When Merlin finishes his project with time to spare, he remains outside to freely write and people watch. Soon enough, Gwen finds him, coming to gather him to lunch. “It doesn’t particularly feel like a Tuesday,” he tells her. It’s a theme that consists throughout the day into the night where they attend a drag show.

“This is the most excited I’ve seen her in a while,” Merlin later tells Arthur. “And she was hit in the head with a condom thrown by one of the drag queens.”

And for a split second, he thinks he can see the look on Arthur’s face lay bare as if he is wondering after the last time that he saw Merlin truly excited. Whether Merlin’s interpretation is right or not, he can’t help wondering the thought himself. And then his thinks of something else; to be exact, he thinks about what day it is. The thought makes him smile to himself.

“What?” Arthur asks.

“Nothing,” Merlin tries to assure him too quickly and he knows the smile is still in place.

“No, really, what?”

“Come to bed,” Merlin answers, instead. “I’ve got a surprise for you tomorrow.”

Tilting his head and furrowing his brows, Arthur seems to take the thought into consideration.

“Then why must I go to bed now?”

“Because I want you to,” Merlin finds himself saying honestly.

Offering his hand, Arthur says, “Lead the way.”

So he does.


	69. March 9th

“You’re celebrating wrong.”

Arthur looks up from where his mouth has been going down on Merlin’s cock. Pulling off with a wet pop, he asks, “What?” 

“Today is the sixty-ninth day of the year. You’re celebrating wrong.”

And then, cheeky bastard that he is, Arthur smirks.


	70. March 10th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uh. I'm so let down by Damien (which I finally watched last night) and drained from writing for my classes this week, that this is all I can really do. I'm trying to finish some old Doctor Who fics, so any free time has been used on that. Tomorrow, if I have the time and the inspiration, I hope to come back with something nice, lengthy, and plotty tomorrow. But for now, all I have is this. Also, I've done more reading of existentialism (for class) so my brain is shot momentarily.

"So, what are you going to write today?"

"I have no idea. I'm out of inspiration for the day after working on that space project and I'm still moping from finishing Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries last night. Now, what do I do?"

"Uh. Watch something else? Get back to reading?"

Merlin takes the suggestions into consideration.

"No, I think I'm just going to rewatch it. Oh, and I'm trying the bumped up dose of my meds tonight, so." He shrugs. "Just thought I'd warn you, or tell you, whatever." But there's a look of uncertainty in his eyes that tells Arthur more than he knows Merlin can make himself dredge up at the moment.

"Alright," he says with a kiss to Merlin's temple. "Thank you for telling me."

It only just seems to settle Merlin's nerves, but it's enough to get him to sigh and lean into the comfort of Arthur's arms, as if grateful. Or so Arthur is fairly sure.


	71. March 11th

“Sometimes, I feel as though all the things that people have said to and about me, especially to my face or within my hearing range – it all has such weight that… It would wear a better man thin. As it should. Honestly, I should be so much more weighed down, but I just have to keep going and I don’t really know why, but at the same time I know exactly why and quite honestly? It sucks.”

Merlin falls quiet for a moment.

“And some people say that it makes me strong, but I feel so…” Licking his lips, he shakes his head. Sniffing, giving his throat a small clearing, he tries again. “Not weak, but…” For years, he has struggled with finding the right word. “I’m a writer, I should have all the right words, but I just never do. I never will.”

It is a night to, under the safety of its darkness, take turns revealing deep secrets and inner turmoil.

“Sometimes,” Arthur slowly confides, “When it’s late and dark and I’m out driving, I find myself just wanting to speed and scream. But I can’t. It’s bad enough that I can’t even make myself sing loudly out loud when others are around, but when I’m alone I can’t even…” He takes a deep breath. “And all I ever want to do is scream. But I can’t. God, I can’t. And then other times, I just.., Fuck, I just want to shut up.”

“I feel that.”

Teary eyed and stuffy nosed, Arthur rapidly blinks as he absently nods.

“I can’t remember the last time I had a good cry. It’s been years.” His breath hitches. “And that thought alone is enough to make me feel sick. I wish I could cry. Why can’t I cry?” Though his voice is close to desperate, it’s obvious that he’s straining, holding off, like even now, exposing himself, he just can’t lay himself bare.

“I can never tell if I just can’t make myself break or if I am already just far too broken and I don’t know which would be worse.”

“I can never tell if too much is expected of me or if I’m just lazy and pathetic.”

“I sometimes don’t know who I am, what I am here for. I feel like a liar, like I have others duped, that I am wrong and wronging and being wronged. I feel like I have… Like I am… That’s it’s all too much.”

“I feel like everyone leaves me. That I lose them. That I push them away.”

“Sometimes, I can’t believe you’re still here.”


	72. March 12th

“Do you think...” Merlin slowly contemplates aloud, “That I will get sick if I eat this entire bowl of caramels or that I’ve eaten enough within the past half hour to have grown immune to such a childish illness?”

Flipping the caramel treat Arthur had popped into his own mouth over with his tongue before giving it a thorough suck, he contemplates how to respond. Cheeks hollowed, tongue pressing the candy to the roof of his mouth, Arthur squints at Merlin. That can’t be a serious question, can it? he wonders. Although, it is Merlin…

“Merlin?”

“Yes, love?” Merlin asks absently, distractedly, as he studies the remaining contents of the bowl. The instinctual and casual use of the pet name makes Arthur softly smile. And then he remembers what he was about to say.

“You know when I send you too many texts at once and you just response with a plethora of question mark emojis?”

Looking up with a tilt of his head and scrunch to his nose, Merlin comments, “That’s an odd thing to say, but yes. What of it?”

“That’s exactly how your question makes me feel.”

At first, Merlin blanches. But then, he breaks out into a laugh.

“Fair enough.”

And he pops another caramel into his mouth, which gives causes for Arthur to roll his eyes and give a small chuckle of his own. A few short minutes later when his own treat has melted entirely away, Arthur goes to grab another from the bowl, only to be stopped by Merlin offering up a newly unwrapped one with a tap of it to Arthur’s bottom lip. Opening his mouth, Arthur allows Merlin to guide the caramel in. Before he can make any sort of a retreat, however, Arthur closes his mouth, capturing the candy as well as Merlin’s fingertips, all of which he smiles around. When Merlin finally gets his fingers free, he replaces their presence at Arthur’s lips with his own for a truly candy sweet kiss.


	73. March 13th

“Come on, sit up and I’ll give you a kiss.”

With a groan, Merlin follows Arthur’s command, but only for the promise it ensures. Otherwise, Merlin would have stayed lying down.

“You’ve got work to do today,” Arthur reminds him after a peck on the lips, which most definitely is not enough to get him out of bed. Out of rebellion, and partially because of the exhaustion, Merlin wraps the blanket around as much of himself as he can and falls forward in a face plant against his pillow, which dulls the sound of his grumbling.

Unfortunately, Merlin only gets a few short seconds undisturbed before Arthur advances again. At first, Merlin thinks he might be tickling his hair, until the stubble on Arthur’s chin brushes his ear and Merlin realizes that Arthur is actually kissing all over his head. By the time his lips have moved onto Merlin’s nape, Merlin is humming. By the time they find their way behind his ear, he’s purring. By the time they’ve reached his pulse point, Merlin is moaning. And by the time that Merlin is thoroughly distracted, it is too late to realize that he has released his grip on the blanket, but Arthur has and so he takes the opportunity to rip it from the bed.

With the cool breeze blowing in from the open windows, it causes Merlin to squawk and jolt upright. His momentum forces him into Arthur’s nice, warm chest and Merlin uses the uninvited welcome to curl himself right in.

Placing another kiss to Merlin’s head, Arthur tells him, “While this is nice, you still need to get up.”

“Oh, believe me, if you had started using teeth, I would have definitely been up.”

Chuckling and pulling back, away from Merlin -- much to Merlin’s displeasure, ad so he tries to follow him until he is nearly tipping off the bed, making him right himself, instead – Arthur says, “You know what I mean.”

Merlin huffs. But then, Arthur leans in for a kiss -- an actual soft, warm, wet, adoring kiss, not just some quick and chaste peck -- and Merlin concedes that maybe it is time to get out of bed.


	74. March 14th

Waking to their alarms with matching groans, both Merlin and Arthur agree that they hate daylight’s savings.

“I am so bloody fucking tired and you’re all stubbly,” grumbles Arthur from his place across Merlin at the island counter in the kitchen.

“Oi, you’re the one who rushed me out of the bathroom before I could shave,” comments Merlin, mouth half full of eggs.

“Remind me to never do it again.”

“You know what? Just for that, I might have to miss another day of grooming myself.”

“With your hair in its current mess? I don’t think it can get much worse.”

“You love my messy hair, even drunk proposed to me that one time because of how much you love my messy hair!”

“Did I really?” Arthur asks even though he already knows the answer but he tells himself that he’s too tired to make serious conversation about it at the moment, not to mention that it’s been months since that night and he still can’t figure out the right day, time, or way to propose. He’s not even sure if the proposal would go over well, given their luck of timing, but he’s fairly certain he can predict the outcome. All the same, he doesn’t want to be let down if his being too presumptuous only leads him astray.

“Yes,” Merlin sniffs with dignity. “And I told you off and to do it properly when you were sober and you told me that would just ruin the surprise if you did it the next day.”

“Ah,” Arthur says, blushing. He remembers that moment far too clearly, now that he’s really thinking about it. “Hold on, how could you even remember this? You drunk as much as I did that night and you’re a lightweight and besides, that was months ago!” The first day that found himself honestly searching a ring shop, to be exact – not that he tells Merlin this. He’s fairly certain that Merlin doesn’t know that particular bit of information at all. Although, the subject hasn’t come up once since.

“Yes. Well.” Merlin clears his throat uncomfortably, tugging at his neckerchief – one of his more obvious tells. “It was very,” he pauses and moves one hand about as if using it to cast around in thin air for the right word before he settles on, “Cute. Sweet.”

He clears his throat again before stumbling over his words.

“And anyways, you haven’t -- and I haven’t -- so.”

Standing, he gathers his dishes and places them in sink to be dealt with later.

“Anyways, got to go. I love you, I’ll see you later.” 

He nearly rushes past Arthur, but stops with just enough time for a chaste kiss. It takes a second longer than Arthur would like to admit for him to catch up with what’s happening, but when he does, Merlin is an entire arm’s length away. Arthur, in a moment of panic and suddenly confused adrenaline, bounds forward in his seat and only just manages to catch Merlin’s fingers in his own. Gripping tight, Arthur pulls Merlin back to him and sits up straighter in his seat. Ending up between Arthur’s legs, Merlin stands a hair’s breath away from touching him and with a somewhat wild look in his eyes, stares openly at Arthur.

Eyes glancing down to Arthur’s lips, Merlin inclines his head closer. His lips almost touch against Arthur’s.

“Don’t ask me right now,” he breathes into the barely there space between their mouths, using their shared air to pulls the words out of his lungs.

It startles Arthur enough to part his lips and begin pulling back involuntarily, but Merlin’s free hand comes up to cradle Arthur’s nape, keeping him in place; or maybe bringing them just that much closer together, still without touching.

His own lips never touching, Arthur asks, “Why not?”

Merlin’s own lips part, but it takes him a while to reply.

“Because I would say yes.”

Arthur has to furrow his brows at that.

“Isn’t that the point?” he slowly asks.

Pressing his forehead to Arthur’s, Merlin lets their bottom lips catch together as he tells him, “Yes.” And with a soft, but firm kiss this time, Merlin repeats his day-to-day before work goodbyes before taking his leave. 

“I love you, too.”

The night, when they’re both back at home after work, is an affair just as gentle as their parting kiss from the morning.


	75. March 15th

They don’t talk about yesterday; Merlin is too fidgety and the adgeda when the thought of confronting anything that’s been on his mind these past few days is almost enough to make him sick. It gnaws at something in Arthur’s throat and chest that makes breathing a little bit difficult, but he knows that they both knew it was going to be a difficult week, what with them both having epic, stressful deadlines to meet.

 

“I wrote a haiku today.”

 

“About what?”

 

“About not wanting to write a haiku.”

 

“I love you.”

 

At least they make room in their long suffered day to appreciate being able to come home to one another.


	76. March 16th

"I've been so stressed and I have done so much writing on a very specific and strict topic today that I almost didn't do my not-so-new daily writing thing. But the thing is, I’ve already formed the habit of doing this, so to give up or give in after going for so long would… I think a part of me would feel incomplete. Like, you know those times when you go on week-long business trips away from home, from me,” Arthur doesn’t get the chance until much later to correct Merlin, to remind him that he and home are the same thing to Arthur, “and you get that feeling like you just aren’t whole until you get back? Because that is what I feel when you’re gone, but that’s not what I’m talking about.

“What I’m talking about is that I almost didn’t do this special writing today; for a split second I honestly wondered what it would be like not to do this writing today and I didn’t feel half as empty as I used to when we were first dating and you would leave for work. But I sat down to write and just started writing and the relief I didn’t even know I needed swept through me like all those times you would call me when you were away, or even the times that I’ve gone away for my own writing and oh my god! How did I not even think about that! I’ve left for my own work all the time!”

“Merlin-“

“Right. Yeah. Back on track. What was I saying? Yes! That’s it, right. So, anyways, that relief, that breath I didn’t know I was waiting to take, it reminded me of when you would call me and… and finally, once again, I could breathe. Like I needed you to breathe.”

Here, Merlin finally stops and… well, he breathes.

Quietly and slowly, he starts speaking once more.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I think I’m sad. And I miss you.”

Taken off guard, lips parted in slight astonishment, all Arthur can do is blink at Merlin. He didn’t make the connection; wasn’t able to understand where Merlin’s rant was going and how it had gotten to where it had. But the sorrow, once he let the words sink in, hit him like a wave.

Arthur thought about the first day of the New Year, how Merlin had written so plainly and cozily of it. Then he thought of today. Arthur couldn’t imagine keeping such a commitment to a piece of paper or a word document; not in the way that he could see himself being committed to Merlin, to loving and supporting him.

“Then why don’t you come here and let me hold you while you tell me about the – what day is it?”

“Seventy-sixth.”

“While you tell me about how you feel about us on the seventy-sixth day of this year?”


	77. March 17th

Once, many years ago, Merlin had visited a psychic who asked him who had drowned. He told her that no one had, not knowing how to tell her that every day it had felt like he was drowning. It is not often that he thinks of that day, but he thinks of it now because he doesn’t know how to tell Arthur that he feels like he’s drowning, either. Part of him thinks that Arthur wouldn’t understand, while another part of him thinks that he might, but wishes up and down that Arthur will never be weighed down by such a heavy, burdening feeling.

“How can I help you?” Arthur asks.

“I don’t know,” Merlin sobs, dry faced.

And Merlin thinks it might just kill a little piece of Arthur, just like it's killing a little piece of himself. It only makes matters worse, but in a way, it makes matters better, but thinking that nearly does lead Merlin to cry.


	78. March 18th

Not wanting to talk about last night just yet, Merin tells Arthur to hold off until tonight, when they'll both have time. Merlin even manages to get home early to cook a nice dinner. However, before Merlin can begin to dredge through his dread, unexpected visitors arrive. By the time they leave, it's the middle of the night and Merlin is tired and somewhat put out.

"Can we please just talk about it tomorrow? I swear, we will, but I... I'm not so sure it's something I want to divulge in the dead of night." Tryin to lighten the burden somewhat, he adds with a smile, "I'd like for myself and Earth to be a bit more alive before I wake the dead."

The look on Arthur's face keeps Merlin up far longer than he leads on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you also following this on ffnet... I'm posting this from my phone, while the chapter will have to be posted after midnight on ffnet, but I still count it for the 24 hour limit.


	79. March 19th

Arthur wakes sweaty and still tired to Merlin’s heated body curled tight into his own. Merlin’s mouth suckles at Arthur’s collarbone. First arching his neck to be able to kiss Merlin on the forehead, he then maneuvers his head back to give his lover better access.

Merlin hums his appreciation.

Still sleep hazy, Arthur lets Merlin’s curious mouth linger a few minutes more before he wakes up enough to come to his senses.

“Are you ready to talk about the other night?” he asks, voice rough with sleep.

Merlin only takes a second to pause and respond, “Not particularly,” before he goes back to working on the red spot he’s claimed on Arthur’s skin.

Arthur sighs.

“Come on, love.”

Angling his head forwards and downwards, he waits for Merlin to detach from his collarbone to look up at Arthur. It doesn’t take too long for Arthur to press his forehead against Merlin, which wrinkles, along with his nose, and Merlin makes a noise of displeasure, but he doesn’t pull away.

“What?” Arthur asks, curious and thinking it’s just Merlin being his begrudging self.

“You’re sweaty.”

Arthur huffs a breath through his nose at that.

“Well, you are!” But he still hasn’t pulled away.

“Merlin,” he tries not to sound too stern.

Merlin’s eyelids flutter shut as he leans in for a short kiss.

“I relapsed,” he states, pulling back. “It happens, especially sometimes when trying to get used to meds. I was sad, depressed, so overwhelmed with it all that I nearly shut down. It was my own fault, really. I knew I was putting pressure on myself by overworking certain tasks and almost entirely ignoring others. It’s like when I was in uni and I took all the fun classes instead of the pre-req courses and by the time I made it to my last few semesters, I was fucked-over and taking all the boring shite.”

“It wasn’t like that, though, was it?”

“No, no it was not,” Merlin states it so simply it’s as if he is reading the answer straight out of a textbook. “But I have suffered the consequences and will continue to do so-“

“But you don’t need to suffer alone,” Arthur insists firmly but gently.

“Arthur,” Merlin sighs.

“I want you to be able to talk to me about this stuff. I want to be able to help you.”

“I don’t like talking.”

“You love talking.”

“Not about this.”

Merlin opens his eyes so he can stare right into Arthur’s. Reaching out a palm from underneath the blankets, he cups Arthur’s cheek and grazes the apple of it with his thumb.

“But fine. All those years of ‘help…’” Arthur is sure that if they weren’t in such close proximity, Merlin would have spit the word out. “I learned how to cope my way around it. Went three years of group sessions with, ‘I’m tired, which is closest to sad’ every single day just so I wouldn’t ever have to flat out say that I was sad and just so I never had to talk about anything. Because if I’m just tired every single day for three years straight, that must really fucking explain it all, right? That I’m fine? That I can fit and be normal out in the real world? But the thing is, I can’t. Not always.”

Not once stopping his speech, Merlin, in some form of anger fueled adrenaline, rolls over too fast for Arthur to come out of his moment of surprise, and gets out of bed. He grabs his pillow and – rips isn’t quite the word, nor wrestles – the cover off his pillow. After putting it in the dirty laundry hamper, he begins to make his way around the room, ruffling through drawers.

“Some people think I’m crazy because I constantly tell people what I want. But there are also the people that don’t like me because I do that. But the thing is? I’ll never get what I want, or what I need, if I never ask. And even when I do ask, I don’t always get it.

“But help… Well, now. Help is something different. If I ask for help, no one knows how to give it. I ask for help, and in return, I get asked how I can be helped. As if I asked for help because I know exactly what help I need! You don’t go to hospital saying that you need your appendix taken out. No, you go to hospital to ask for the pain to be taken away and they take it away.

“But the rest of the world doesn’t work like that.”

At this point, Merlin has piled sweats, pants, socks, a shirt, and a hoodie all folded on top of his dresser, but he has not dressed.

“We both need showers and the bedclothes could used a wash.”

“Merlin.”

It shocks Arthur, but instead of sighing or getting angry, Merlin bounds forward, putting one knee onto the bed. He leans over Arthur, both hands landing on Arthur’s cheeks.

“I am so used to not full out telling anyone all my problems; to instead never speak of them or to let things out in self deprecating bits and pieces. I honest to god don’t know what else to give you. I avoid and deflect because I can’t even help myself. And despite that, I have opened up to you over the years. I have let you in. I have let you help. And it is because I love you so much. But if, at this point, you don’t realize that a lot of this is just what I have spend years coming to terms with as part of what I am, who I am –“

“I know exactly what and who you are, Merlin.”

Though Merlin’s face may be blank, the fingertips that can reach Arthur’s temples -- one of Arthur’s comfort spots for Merlin -- have increased their put upon pressure, his eyes are too light, but not bright enough, there’s a dimple where Merlin is biting the inside skin around his lips, and his breathing is coming out irregular.

“You are the other half of what makes our embodiment of ‘home’ home. You are the other half of the balance to this, to us. And if you are off balance, I will do everything I can – everything you let me, and then some – to balance you back out, to right you. You know that is mine is yours, as I know that what is yours is mine, and I hope that you realize that that includes the ups and the downs, the good and the bad.

You, Merlin, are mine, as I am yours. And I know that you have troubles, worries. Even ghosts. But you are the other half of me, so all that you are, all who you are, makes me whole. So, believe it or not, Merlin, but I do know because I feel it.”

Putting both of his own hands over Merlin’s own, Arthur drags them both down to cover his chest.

“I feel you. And most of all, I feel hurt that you feel hurt. And maybe I can’t take your hurt away – not all of it, anyways. But I can and I will try, so long as you let me. So please, don’t run.”

Merlin holds eye contact with Arthur for as long as he can, but Arthur can see the moment Merlin grows too sensitive. Rubbing his thumbs over the backs of Merlin’s hands, he offers silent comfort when Merlin looks away and pressed his head to Arthur’s torso. Then, he uses one hand to card through Merlin’s hair.

“I want to watch Italian romance movies today.”


	80. March 20th

Apparently, Merlin is in a mood today, which is just great. It’s not as if he hasn’t felt like he’s been in a mood for days or possibly weeks or anything. Nope. Being in yet another mood is just fucking fine.

“Before you ask if I’ve taken my medicine, I think it might be cause of the medicine,” he tells Arthur after he gets into a bit of a quarrel with Gwaine at brunch.

“So now what?” Arthur asks openly.

Over exaggeratingly shrugging, arms and shoulders all going up, Merlin tilts his head and makes a passive face (because acting the arrogant fool is easier than opening up when he’s still fired up), he says, “Fuck if I know.”

A silent moment of pure anger washes over Arthur. Instantly regretting it, but still feeling frustrated, he does the only thing he can think to steer them away from it all.

“You know what I don’t think I’ve ever eaten?”

Once Merlin recovers from his moment of shock, he asks, “What?”

“Meatloaf.”

“Huh,” Merlin breathes, his mouth opening and tongue going to run across the back of one of his canine teeth. “You know, I don’t think I’ve had it for a few years now.”

At the grocers on the way home, they buy enough for a dinner of Meatloaf, veggies, and potatoes. Because they’ve taken Merlin’s car, it reminds Arthur that Merlin had mentioned not too long ago that he had said he was in need of a new car air freshener, and so Arthur sneaks a few into the shopping cart.


	81. March 21st

Raising one hand into the air and over the back of the couch, Merlin waves his hello to Arthur when he arrives home.

“Hey, do you have any absolutely pressing need to be doing anything right now?” he askes as Arthur quickly grabs and releases Merlin’s hand, taking a brief second to kiss the palm before rushing off back towards the doorway where he puts down his bags and hangs up his coat.

“Not at the moment, no. Why do you ask?” Arthur calls from where he is slipping off his shoes.

“I’ve just put dinner in. Should be little under an hour until it’s ready, so you’re just in time to cuddle.”

“Oh, brilliant.”

When Arthur finally makes his way over to the couch, Merlin lifts the throw blanket off his sprawled form and spreads his legs invitingly. Arthur takes the warm welcome and molds himself against Merlin’s body. Twining their legs, he shifts his weight enough to cover Merlin comfortably enough that he wouldn’t crush him too much. His head nestles on Merlin’s chest while one arm makes its way above his head to grasp onto Merlin’s shoulder while the other snuggles half against, half under Merlin’s side. Merlin’s own arms secure themselves around Arthur’s shoulders and back, his fingers absently rubbing patterns. As Merlin presses kisses to the crown of Arthur’s head, Arthur returns his gratitude by giving kisses to Merlin’s chest.

“How was your day?”

“Hmm. Bit boring. Better now, though.”


	82. March 22nd

Seeing his best friend Freya first the first time in months (as cause of long distance), gives way to merlin having a good day. Still, the guilt for being able to see each other more often eats at him. He aims to make up for it when they both have more free time in the summer.

At home, Merlin thanks Arthur for the divine smelling car air freshener he finally remembered Arthur buying for him over the weekend, by reading to him from a German poetry book he had brought home from his adventure earlier in the day.


	83. March 23rd

Head placed in Arthur’s lap and hair being absentmindedly tussled about by Arthur’s free hand – the other holding open a book – Merlin sighs up at Arthur.

“I don’t know what to write today,” he admits.

“Write about not knowing what to write?” Arthur suggests, swiping his thumb comfortingly over Merlin’s temple, causing Merlin to hum.

Fascinated by Arthur’s bottom lip as he gently bites into it, Merlin reaches up a hand so his own fingers can touch and indent the soft skin themselves. Arthur releases his lip immediately to Merlin’s curious fingertips.

“I don’t know. I feel like I write about that struggle a lot.”

“It could be your signature thing.”

Momentarily distracted by the feel of Arthur’s lip moving under his hand and his breath ghosting over the digits, it takes Merlin a moment to register that Arthur has spoken.

“Hmm? Oh. Yeah, maybe. Your lips are beautiful.”

Chuckling, Arthur kisses at Merlin’s fingers as they trace the arches of Arthur’s cupid’s bow.


	84. March 24th

As he circles a fingertip around the birth mark on Merlin’s bare back, Arthur wonders to himself when it will ever be the right time to ask Merlin about marriage. He had purchased the ring months ago on a determined impulse just to have it and the knowledge that he would ask. At the time, he knew it would be a while before he did the asking, though, as he wanted Morgana and Leon to get through their wedding first. This was mostly due to a majority of their friends calling the “couples spawn couples” and “families spawn families" cards and Arthur didn’t want Merlin to think that was the reason Arthur wanted to propose. Truth be told, he had the idea since before Leon ever even proposed to Morgana. But the timing was never right and Arthur Pendragon prides himself on being a man of perfect timing. 

A gentle full body shiver, like a ripple of waves in a body of water caused by the slightest gust of wind, accompanies the soft moan that alerts Arthur to Merlin’s slow stirring from his sleep. Perfect timing be damned, they’ve both found themselves in bed earlier than usual, only for Arthur to wake around the time they normally drift off to sleep.

“Lower,” Merlin mumbles, flexing his shoulders.

Arthur brings him hand down to explore the dip of Merlin’s spine, which riles Merlin into practically purring. Or, well, maybe it’s a bit more like a purring groan that Arthur finds entirely too endearing. Not able to help himself, he chuckles.

Maybe timing isn’t always perfect. Daylight’s saving time does tend to suck, after all.

“Merlin?” he asks, quietly.

“Babe?” Merlin responds lowly after a second of even breathing that tells Arthur just how tired Merlin really is.

“Will you marry me one day?” Arthur whispers into Merlin’s ear.

“Any day. Every day. Only if you marry me back,” Merlin tells him before promptly falling back to sleep.


	85. March 25th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The book is called, "Treasury of German Love Poems, Quotations & Proverbs in German and English." The German poem is called, "Küß" by Franz Grillparzer. The English translation is called, "A Kiss" by Ann Zeller. At least, I'm pretty sure that's what's happening. Feel free to correct me or make me get off my lazy butt and confer with my German-To-English or whatever dictionary somewhere in my bookshelf. (Seriously, if someone asks, I'll do it otherwise we might all be wrong like a bunch of asses. Anyways.) This formatting for poetry is so wrong. Seriously, kids, don't write poetry into a story like this.

For the first time this year, Merlin and Arthur celebrate the last Friday of the month on time. And since it happens to also be Easter weekend, they both get to start their date early because they both have half a day of work. With the weather being too wet and humid to make use of a gravely desired picnic, and not wanting to deal with the holiday traffic, they decide to have yet another day in, and then debate the whereabouts of the dinner portion of their date later.

Their time together starts with a late lunch picked up and brought home from one of their favorite bagel places partway between both their offices and close to home. Of course, they have tunes playing, the move lively and homey ones ringing out towards the end of their meal. This spurs on some playful banter disguised as dancing. Along the way, they pick up a bit of a routine where they shuffle along different rooms of their home, cleaning and organizing different things, with the occasional pause whenever they get close enough to grab one another into a spin or a twirl or some sort of semblance of a turn about. In the end, they manage a decent number of chores, kisses, and only three incidents where Merlin almost trips over his own feet. Sweaty and tad tired from the excursion, they decide to bathe.

Side pressed to Arthur’s front in the tub, Merlin recites from the German love poetry book, first speaking a line in German then switching to its English translation, as given in the book. He is somewhat skeptical, but he carries on.

“Auf die Hände küßt die Achtung.” He kisses Arthur’s free hand, the one that isn’t wrapped around Merlin, before he repeats the line in translation for Arthur. “A hand is to be kissed with reverence.”

Arthur kisses Merlin’s hand.

“Freundschaft auf die offne Stirne.” He kisses Arthur’s forehead. “The forehead – solemnly, with friendship.”

Arthur kisses Merlin’s forehead.

“Auf die Wange Wohlgefallen.” He kisses Arthur’s cheek. “The cheeks – with tender admiration.”

Arthur kisses Merlin’s cheek.

“Sel’ ge Liebe auf den Mund.” He kisses Arthur’s lips. “And the lips be kissed with ardor.”

Arthur kisses Merlin’s lips.

“Aufs geschloßne Aug’ die Sehnsucht.” He kisses Arthur’s closed eyelids. “While the eyes one kisses with languor.”

Arthur kisses Merlin’s closed eyelids.

“In die hohle Hand Verlangen.” He kisses Arthur’s neck. “The neck – with passionate desire.”

Arthur kisses Merlin’s neck.

“Arm und Nacken die Begierde.”He leans his head on Arthur’s chest. “And with a maddening delirium.”

Arthur rests his cheek on the top of Merlin’s head.

“Alles weitre Raserei!” Merlin places kisses on Arthur’s chest. “All the rest is to be kissed.”

Arthur places kisses on Merlin’s head.

Many kisses – alongside touches and words – are placed upon many body parts for a while after that. The book ends up flung onto the counter space between the two sinks to keep dry.

It is during one of the most normal and accustomed moments that Merlin manages to surprise Arthur with his own words. They’ve made it out of the tub, water drained and bodies washed by one another from the brief spray of the shower, and now Arthur is taking great care to towel dry Merlin’s hair as much as he gently can.

“I’ve had a ring for weeks, by the way.”

It takes a moment for Arthur’s ministrations to stop, as he needs time to process what Merlin has said. Checking the dampness of Merlin’s hair with a hand, Arthur deems it manageable and drops the towel onto the counter. He pushes Merlin’s hair back off his face and he wonders briefly if Merlin might just need that haircut he’s been mulling over, after all.

“You mean your ears are still ringing?”

Merlin’s expression startles for at first, but he quickly recovers.

“Well, yes, but that’s not what I’ve meant.”

“Merlin-“

“No, listen, it’s not that bad, but that’s not what I-“ he pauses with a sigh. “What you said yesterday? I’m very sure you meant what you said just as much as I meant what I said, so I just thought I’d let you know I’ve had a ring for weeks.”

Mouth slightly gaping, all Arthur can manage is to blink at Merlin. He falters.

“I’ve had one for months,” comes out in a yelling-whisper.

Whatever reaction Arthur could have expected, it certainly didn’t involve Merlin laughing. But, once Arthur has thought the moment through, he can’t quite say that he’s surprised. It is Merlin after all. And in the next moment, Arthur is laughing, too.

Of bloody course.


	86. March 26th

The day is a good one over all, mixed with productivity and laziness. Preparing for the Easter get together tomorrow, Arthur and Merlin find themselves alternating between lying about waiting for foods and sweets in the oven and moving around the flat to clean. Merlin’s favorite thing to make – for the first time, might he add, making the whole thing even greater – is lemon bars.

At one point, Merlin even convinces Arthur into decorating a few Easter eggs, but the joke’s on Merlin because Arthur decorates some pretty fantastic looking eggs, if he does say so himself.

They don’t really talk about how they’ve shown each other the rings; how they have this unspoken game going to see who will crack first and either honest-to-god propose or just take the damn rings and put them on. There is no date being debated, no plan to be considered set in stone. But they both know, and they feel it. And though one pressure has been lifted ever since they both brought their rings out of hiding, at least three more pressures have been added.


	87. March 27th

Arthur wakes lax and warm, Merlin sat out before him with the ring Arthur had bought him being twisted and turned over in his hands. Its ring box, alongside the one containing the ring Merlin had bought Arthur lie on Merlin’s lap.

“The jeweler said something about some of the metal having been melted down from old coins,” Arthur informs him.

He doesn’t understand the small smile on Merlin’s face, but he likes it.

“My jeweler said something similar.”

“Huh.” Brows furrowing, tongue running across the backs of his teeth, Arthur scratches at his neck and wonders at that. “Quite the coincidence.”

“Think so?”

But Arthur knows that Merlin isn’t really asking, so he stays quiet and observes Merlin trace the ring with his pointer finger and bite at the inside corner of his lower lip.

“I can’t promise,” Merlin starts, only to pause and take a deep breath. In the same moment, Arthur stops breathing until Merlin continues. “I can’t promise that things will be any easier. If anything, I get the feeling that things might become ever the more difficult.”

Merlin turns to look Arthur directly in the eye and Arthur’s breath betrays him once more by hitching.

“But I love you and that makes it all worth it.”

Never taking his eyes off Arthur’s, Merlin slides the ring onto his ring finger.

“Besides.” Another small smile starts to pull at the corners of Merlin’s lips. “I hear my mother has been waiting to walk me down the aisle.”

Arthur can’t help but to snort at that. Hunith has been reminded him of just that for every time that they’ve happened to spoken to one another within the past few months. With her coming over later for Easter, he’s bound to hear that a lot more today. And with that thought, Arthur smiles, as well. He can’t wait for that moment either.

That thought in mind, Arthur puts his ring on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [YESTERDAY'S LEMON BAR RECIPE HERE](http://www.yourhomebasedmom.com/best-lemon-bars/)


	88. March 28th

A few short hours before his alarms, Merlin wakes with an existential crisis. He has been meaning to vent to someone about this dreadful emptiness he’s been feeling ever since his medication dose had been bumped up. But he hasn’t managed to speak of it yet. Truth is, he feels like his medicine has been trying to numb him. With the medicine being a sodium, he isn’t all that surprised by this side effect, just disappointed. The only other time he had been on sodium based pills they had nearly destroyed him, and that was many years ago, nearly a whole lifetime ago, and yet he feels almost the same.

He texts Will, needing the comforts of an old friend who understands. Turning over, he fits himself into Arthur’s side, needing to be able to breathe in the familiarities of Arthur’s scent and warmth as he forces himself to settle back to sleep. In his sleep, Arthur makes a soft groan and he turns his head towards Merlin, accidentally bumping their heads together. It makes Merlin huff a small laugh and smile, reminding him that at least Merlin can still feel this; can still feel for and about Arthur.


	89. March 29th

Visiting his mother for lunch doesn’t go as planned. One moment, he’s getting settled, listening absentmindedly to the sounds of his mother’s kitchen, and in the next moment, his mother is calling out how she feels dizzy, how she should get to the front door so the ambulance doesn’t have to make their way through her home. Then, she is up on her feet, off her seat, starting to walk, only to slowly descend onto her knees.

“Mum?” Merlin asks, confused and trying not to panic.

But his mother isn’t listening, she’s pushing him out of the way and making her way to the door onto her knees until she can push herself up back onto her feet. But by the time she reaches the door, she is confused, she doesn’t understand what has happened. Somewhat hysterical, she gabs on about how she just felt dizzy, how she just needed to get to the front door, and could Merlin retrieve her blood pressure machine for her?

Merlin forces himself to eat, to pretend some semblance of normalcy while he side-eyes the blood pressure machine that his mother keeps trying to use.

She refuses to see a doctor, so Merlin calls Gaius to come watch her while he goes back to work to gather his things, then to his and Arthur’s to pack an overnight bag. Along the way, he gives Arthur a call. If he thinks the relief when Arthur says that he will stay the night as well and that he will leave work right away is great, it is nothing compared to when Arthur catches up to him in his mum’s driveway, pulling Merlin right into his arms.

“It’s too much, it’s just too much,” he rushes out, shaking minutely.

“Then let me share the burden,” Arthur advises him evenly.

“There’s. Too. Much.”

“Let me help you anyways.”

Merlin doesn’t respond, choosing instead to rest against Arthur for a little while longer before pulling back to grab Arthur’s arm and lead him inside.


	90. March 30th

His mother doesn’t let any of the men staying in her household to fuss over her. She goes to work and sends them all off to do their own. This does nothing to ease anyone’s nerves, but Hunith later calling to tell Merlin that she has made an appointment for herself on Monday does. That is, until Merlin realizes that this means that his mother is far more scared than she let on.

He starts wondering if maybe it’s not all on his medication, if maybe his own subconscious is trying to help numb itself out and shut down rather than face stress.

“We’ll get through this,” Arthur murmurs in Merlin’s ear when he holds him close, rubbing at his shoulders.

All Merlin can do is hope that Arthur is right.


	91. March 31st

It is a much better day today. On his lunch break, Merlin takes his lunch outside by some flowers and runs into some old friends. As for Arthur, he even manages to catch a few minutes of his own lunch outside, as well, but his encounter with flowers come in the form of ones sent to his office from Merlin.


	92. April 1st

Lying in bed, blissed out and thoroughly exhausted, Arthur pulls Merlin in closer with a hand on his waist. The post-sex heat is nothing compared to today’s humidity that snuck into their bedroom through the windows. A slight breeze coming in from those same windows now only just helps along the cooling sweat on their bodies. 

Making the most of Merlin’s sleep-ready laxness, Arthur picks up Merlin’s hand. He had cut his finger on the microwave earlier in the day – “Don’t even ask, we’ll both just end up agreeing about how much of an idiot I am and trust me, I already know that.” – and, wrapped hurriedly in an oversized plaster, Merlin claims that it still hurts. Touching his lips first to the plaster and then to the revealed bit of skin underneath it, Arthur slowly kisses along Merlin’s fingers, taking his time as he makes his way through each and every single digit. When he finishes, he kisses over the palm and then the back until finally he reaches the wrist and then moves onto Merlin’s left hand. His speed never falters, neither quickening nor slowing, but when he finishes his little act of worship, he trails his lips back to the ring on Merlin’s finger and lingers.

“We’re going to get married,” he breathes out with a smile and single huffed chuckle.

“No getting rid of me now,” Merlin tells Arthur, shocking him slightly as he had thought Merlin to be asleep or nearly so. “But unfortunately, that also means there’s no getting rid of you now, either.”

“Merlin!”

And this time, Arthur laughs, but so does Merlin.

Once the laughter has died down, they lie in a peaceful few moments of silence before Merlin softly speaks again.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, though.”

Arthur tightens his hold on Merlin’s waist and agrees.


	93. April 2nd

Merlin and Arthur get absolutely no work done today. Instead, their entire morning and a better part of their afternoon is spent in bed. It’s nearly time for tea by the time they make it out of bed and into the kitchen for an easy meal of pasta. The rest of their diet consists of snacks. Mostly, they spend their afternoon and night lounging on their arses, watching movies. By the time that midnight starts to near, they concede that maybe it’s time for a shower. Going along with the claiming of helping Merlin because Arthur knows his finger still hurts from the open cut on his finger, Arthur makes their bathing a joint effort.


	94. April 3rd

Merlin wakes with a warm body pressed against his back, fingers tweaking one of his nipples, and a hard prick rutting slowly against his arse. To give his appreciation and show his approval, he moans, grinding his hips back just as slowly as Arthur’s. He receives a kiss to the back of his ear in acknowledgement. Their gentle rhythm continues on for a while more as Merlin takes his time to fully wake. Sadly, the moment is ruined the moment he opens his eyes.

Groaning more from displeasure than anything else, he rolls over onto his stomach, dislodging Arthur’s hand and groin, and faceplants into his pillow.

 

“A morning shag won’t make me forget that it bloody snowed again, Arthur,” he grouses into the pillow.

In response, Arthur kisses at Merlin’s shoulder. Or, more accurately, he makes a trail of kisses that start at Merlin’s shoulder. A bite to the tender skin where underarm meets armpit ends the onslaught of pecks and causes Merlin to shiver. Arthur licks at the spot, making Merlin squirm, before he uses his teeth again, this time going in for what Merlin is sure will easily be a mark. Merlin’s noises become more high pitched and whine-like things by then. A squeaky groan might even manage to pass his lips when Arthur attempts to nuzzle his way closer. Rather quickly, Merlin has forgotten what he was meant to be grumbling about.

“We could stay in bed all day,” Arthur suggests in a whisper.

Merlin hums, liking the idea if only Arthur would keep at marking his body in little nips and bites.

“We wouldn’t need to go outside at all, then.”

With a groan, Merlin suddenly remembers the issue and turns onto his side to face Arthur.

“You were so close,” he chastises at Arthur who, prat that he is, has the audacity to laugh at him.

“We have brunch later.”

“I don’t want brunch.”

“We have to go grocery shopping.”

“I don’t like groceries.”

And Arthur laughs again but leans in close, trying to muffle it in Merlin’s neck. The hot air from his breath combined with the vibrations from his laugh make Merlin shiver. Enjoying Arthur’s closeness and wanting to forget about the snow until it’s all melted away, Merlin takes his vengeance by making love to Arthur achingly slow to the point that Arthur forgets why he was even teasing Merlin in the first place; until he forgets why he has teased Merlin ever, at all.


	95. April 4th

It snows again today and Merlin is none too happy, especially since it means that his mother now has to reschedule her doctor’s appointment. Merlin worries, but he tries hard not to. In fact, he tells himself that he stays up late stressing over a project, not his mother. However, he doesn’t work on his project whatsoever, even though it’s due to be presented tomorrow. But then, Arthur wakes late in the night and pulls Merlin close.

“Did I wake you?”

“No. I had the sense you might need me, though.”

“Liar,” Merlin calls him out as he curls in closer, regardless, breathing the familiar, comforting scent of a sleep rumpled Arthur. Admittedly, it helps.


	96. April 5th

Today is the harpy’s (see: Morgana) birthday, so Arthur stops over at her office to deliver flowers (the whole gang is going to have a birthday bash for her over the weekend and that is when Arthur and Merlin are going to giver her the real presents they bought her). He carpool with Leon, whose plan it is to take Morgana out to lunch. Learning that Arthur plans to take Merlin out, Leon invites them along, insisting that he and Morgana have dinner plans and that the lunch was an impromptu in-the-moment split decision thing, anyways. It ends up a pleasant surprise all around.


	97. April 6th

Merlin goes to have his haircut today. The style is different than his usual do, in a style that his mother would have grimaced over and tried her hardest to pretend not to hate, had he gotten it in college. It makes him feel liberated and besides, he could do with a change. Being numbed by his medication, he just really needs something that makes him feel vibrant. As an added bonus, he gets to see his cousin, Daegal, who Merlin is happy to see is so much happier and livelier than the last time he saw him. It brings him a great sense of relief he didn’t know he needed.

When Arthur gets home some time after Merlin, he pulls Merlin’s back into his front from his lounging position on the window seatee. Without being prompted, Merlin starts reading aloud from the book he’s reading until he finishes the chapter. All the while, Arthur nuzzles his head along the nape of Merlin’s neck, behind his ears, along the newly trimmed tufts of hair at the base of his skull. When Merlin asks after Arthur’s day once he’s finished his chapter, Arthur spends the next few minutes mumbling into Merlin’s ears about his thoughts on the fuzz of Merlin’s hair in the back.

“Your mother would hate this,” Arthur informs him.


	98. April 7th

Once again, Merlin is stuck with two armfuls of Morgana at work and is then made to drive her to Leon. To relieve himself of the stress, he makes his way to Arthur’s office – and then, by default, into Arthur’s arms – once he gets a free minute to breath only to find that he can hardly get half a full breath in. Besides, Merlin knows that Arthur will want to know – and then will need to be comforted himself – and it might be best to hear from Merlin whatever he hasn’t been told by Leon already.

But the thing about Arthur, Merlin thinks to himself, is that sometimes his means of taking comfort from Merlin is by putting the attention he needs onto Merlin instead. Merlin understands it in his own way, knowing that Arthur will refuse to let it all catch up with him until late at night when they are safe under the covers of their bed comforter and the evening’s darkness.

To make matters worse – and Merlin hates himself just ever so much for this – Merlin has another ringing inside his head and not just through his ears incident and, remembering his promise from last time, tells Arthur about it. Unsurprisingly, it concerns Arthur further.

What makes Merlin feel even sicker, more worthy of this disgusting punishment to his well being, is that he still feels mostly numbed by his meds, while another part of him in digging a deeper, darker pit of dread inside of him that he doesn’t think he’s experienced for months now. Hating himself for it, thinking narcissistically of himself, he tries to force a vow from himself that he will do better by Arthur as Merlin thinks that Arthur might silently be suffering a lot more than he realizes.

At 11:11, he hopes that maybe they’ll do better tomorrow.


	99. April 8th

Merlin and Arthur go to a charity gala this evening. Merlin's anxiety is so bad he has to take a whole milligram of Xanax. There’s an hour left before they’re meant to leave and Merlin can’t stop fussing over how to style his hair just right. Arthur steps between Merlin and the mirror to take matters into his own hands. When Merlin tries to gain back some control, Arthur swats his hands away until Merlin submits to Arthur’s whim. 

Hair now as under control as it can be, Arthur moves onto straightening out Merlin’s thin tie.

“It doesn’t matter how many events you bring me to, you know. ‘Cocktail attire’ still sounds weird and made up to me.”

Arthur rolls his eyes before placing a chaste kiss on Merlin’s lips.

“Nevertheless,” Arthur tells him, eyes slowly roaming appreciatively over Merlin’s figure, “I will always use any excuse I can to get you dressed this handsomely.”

Pleasantly for Arthur, Merlin’s cheeks turn a little pink.

“You just like showing me off,” Merlin tries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I get one before midnight, more will be added to this. If I don't get home before midnight, then there will be nothing more. For those following on ffnet, I will hopefully post before 1 AM EST


	100. April 9th

On the hundredth day of the New Year, Merlin sleeps in far too late, his head stuffy and pained, his body exhausted and tensed. To add insult to injury, when he finally makes it out of bed, he finds the shower absent of shampoo. His hair washing routine is submitted to dishwasher soap and conditioner.

To celebrate making it through one hundred days of writing, and because their pantry is somewhat bare, he decides to take Arthur out to an early dinner. And yes, Merlin is rather shamed for staying in bed for so long. After, they do their grocery shopping. But, the real celebration is the gelato Merlin has been wanting to buy for months finally being on sale.

By midnight, and after some light celebratory sex – or so they claim is their reason – Merlin goes back and reads through all one hundred days of his writing.

“Read some of it to me?” Arthur asks quietly. Tentatively. Hesitantly.

_I would read it all to you and then again and then more_ , Merlin thinks to himself. So he does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added more to yesterday's chapter, in case anyone missed it. Happy hundredth day of 2016! And thank you for sticking around with me and my 30,000+ (wow!!!!) words so far! Let's hope for 266 days and many, many words more! (:


	101. April 10th

Merlin feels like absolute shit when he wakes up today. So, at Arthur’s insistence, instead of going to brunch, they stay home and Arthur finishes reading aloud the hundred-day entries that they hadn’t gotten to the night before. He may also spend a good amount of time teasing Merlin about his bedhead and then just as much time (more, actually) teasing Merlin’s hair just so until he’s arranged it nicely enough (as nicely as he can, really) while Merlin grumbles and pretends that he minds (he doesn’t, though).


	102. April 11th

Arthur ‘s day is more agitating than usual, making Arthur feel like he has to talk down to his employees in a patronizing voice as if they are all children. It grates on his nerve and makes him grind his teeth. Honestly, he just can’t wait to get home. And when he does get home, it’s a huge relief.

He wraps himself around Merlin from behind when he finds him in the kitchen and presses his face into the crook of Merlin’s neck.

“Tough day?” Merlin asks, already knowing the answer.

Arthur answers with a noncommittal grunt. Merlin, in his naturally comforting fashion, rubs at Arthur’s arms silently for a beat.

“Guess what we’re making for dinner?”

Shifting his head up to rest his chin on Merlin’s shoulder, and appreciating the change in subject, Arthur asks, “What?”

“Cheese filled chicken.”

The groan that passes Arthur’s lips, this time, is very appreciative, accompanied with a little thrust of his lower body trying to better mold itself to Merlin’s backside. “Gods, you’re such a gorgeous man.”

Turning his head, Merlin cheekily replies, “You only want me for the things I fill your stomach with.”

“Mm,” Arthur plays along, “that’s why I’m marrying you; I’m a greedy bastard, me.”

And Merlin laughs before gently shoving Arthur off him and towards the sink.

“C’mon, wash up so you can help me,” he commands him after a short kiss.

“Anything for you, of course,” Arthur says after kissing him back, his tone playful but he means every word.


	103. April 12th

During a discussion with his doctor, Merlin decides to come off his medication again. This concerns Arthur, of course, but he trusts Merlin to take whatever he may need from Arthur when and if ever he should need anything.


	104. April 13th

Something must show on his face that he hasn’t managed to hide because the doctor suddenly sends the nurse out, quietly closing the door behind her before attempting to calmly approach Merlin. It’s not Merlin that misunderstands, though.

“I think depression and anxiety are why you’re having issues with your head, and you should find a doctor to treat it for that.”

“I have been treating it,” the doctor gives him a surprised look, “for years. The ringing has just been the past few months.”

He says he can’t help, but to maybe look into a neurologist. When Merlin goes to check out, he is surprised to find the man wants him to schedule another appointment in three months. To him, it makes no sense.

His irritation only grows from there.

During some free time, he finally goes in person to set up a meeting he should have had two weeks ago. His jaw tightens when the scattered, clueless receptionist turns out to be the person who hasn’t bothered to email him back these past two weeks or so.

And then, he gets into a fight with Arthur. Except, it’s not really a fight if Merlin keeps his mouth shut most of the time, now is it? And Merlin knows that it’s his fault, that he should be the one fixing this, but he can’t sort the things in his head right now, and truth be told, he really doesn’t want to – it’s all just too much; too heavy.

He escapes to the bedroom, feeling guilty and ashamed knowing that Arthur has a lot going on, too, and that he seems much smoother at coping. And oh god, that’s probably it, isn’t it? Arthur probably isn’t even coping at all, and here Merlin is, punishing the both of them just because Merlin feels the need to punish himself.

Getting up from the bed, he makes his way to Arthur, and by extent, the door. Just before he can reach the latter, it opens on its own accord, or so it seems as there stands Arthur.

Merlin freezes in place.

Before he can think of getting so much as a syllable out, Arthur begins speaking, albeit uncomfortably.

“I think we’ve been both going through a bit of a rough time of it.” Arthur clears his throat. “And maybe we just need a quiet night in. Together. Just being there – here. I mean, if you want to go back to silently sitting on complete opposite sides of the couch again then, by all means, we will. But I think I’d just prefer to hold you, or you hold me really, either way I can’t complain, so long as we’re safe and warm and close, really, in bed.” He pauses. “Or… wherever.”

And Merlin is just so relieved that Arthur wants to be in his presence at all, let along to touch him, that Merlin immediately tugs Arthur in closer and closer because suddenly they hardly seem close enough.


	105. April 14th

Carding his fingers through Merlin’s soft, if somewhat of a tangled mess of hair, admiring how Merlin, in blindly trusting unconsciousness, follows Arthur’s touch in his sleep, all Arthur can think about is how lucky he is to have this precious man all to himself.


	106. April 15th

They go to bed exhausted and sweaty – and not just from the heat that snuck into their room that they are, to no avail, trying to rid of by having their windows open to the cooling balm of night.


	107. April 16th

For lunch, they decide to make chicken, cheese, and tomato filled quesadillas, the add of seasoned tomatoes being a new, adventurous addition. While they're both still testing out their individual cooking skills, flipping foods have always worked out beautifully for Merlin; for Arthur, not so much. So, while their lunches are delicious, Arthur's is definitely no piece of art. And if Merlin happens to tease him about it? Well, there are always ways to shut him up or leave him speechless that involves the only thing Arthur is good at flipping over perfectly -- them.


	108. April 17th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I'm sure you've all noticed... I'm going through some writer's block.

“Why… Why are you using your phone to do research when your laptop is open right in front of you?” Arthur asks Merlin, who pauses, looking up at his computer, back to his phone, and then to Arthur with a sheepish smile.

“Force of habit?” he asks as if he genuinely doesn’t know, and Arthur laughs fondly, thinking that he just might not.


	109. April 18th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haley and Rachaëlle, this one's for the two of you because I need the motivation to get out of my slump.

Arthur gets his blood drawn this morning. Beforehand, he stops to top off his car’s petrol and then to buy a muffin from a local coffee shop. To add to his pleasure, when he first walks in he is offered a free coffee sample. It’s not his usual flavor, but he must admit that it isn’t all that bad. But then, as said, he gets his blood drawn.

The waiting room is filled, packed mainly with the elderly; most of which are hard of hearing and make the waiting just a hair short of an aggravation. And to top it off, his chair is sat right across from the open loo door and the mirror that hangs right on the other side of its entrance. It forces Arthur to sit through the queue with the realization that his hair looks a lot worse than his bedroom mirror suggested and now he has absolutely no way of fixing it. 

But then, he gets his blood drawn and is set free to go about his day. 

He is stuck inside most of the day for work, which is upsetting since the weather is the nicest that it’s been in weeks. But as luck will have it, he does manage to take his lunch break outside which is such an absolute pleasure that it prompts him to rush home as early as he can. Arthur and Merlin have plans to spend the night with Hunith and Gaius for Hunith’s birthday and the spring heat gives way to a brilliant idea.

As a midafternoon treat, Arthur treats everyone to ice cream, which later prompts s’mores (made by Merlin) after dinner (made by Gaius). Overall, Arthur is sure that Hunith ends up having a lovely birthday. It makes him happy, and moreover, it makes Merlin happy to see his mum happy, which makes Arthur even happier. It’s during a moment of him thinking just this when Huntith approaches him.

“Thinking about my son?” she asks, not unkindly.

“Is it that obvious?” he asks sheepishly.

Hunith chuckles to herself, smiling a little smile and shaking her head; a familiar set of actions often done by Merlin. That thought makes Arthur smile once more.

Grabbing Arthur’s arm for support, Hunith sits next to Arthur.

“You have this certain look and aura about you when you think of my son,” Hunith tells him. “Well, my son and meat, if I’m honest, but since we’re already eaten I’ll go with the former.”

And Arthur can’t help letting out a laugh himself before they settle into a comfortable silence.

“You could call me mum, you know. You may not actually be my son, but you’re as good as,” she says, her tone so casual and off-handed that Arthur is momentarily stunned.

When he finally manages to compose himself enough, he relays to her quietly, “I’d like that,” adding even softer and with only a brief hesitation, “mum.”

Hunith’s smile is so much like Merlin’s and suddenly Arthur can’t wait to tell him.


	110. April 19th

“Yes, well, I saw a different doctor last year who told me I didn’t have a problem anymore,” Arthur tells the doctor.

“And he works here? In this facility?” he’s asked dubiously, disbelievingly, possibly a little angered or offended that this doctor has such a colleague.

“Yes.”

“Are you aware that this isn’t something that just goes away? That it stays with you? Especially after surgery.”

“Yes.”

The doctor sighs in slight frustration and it makes Arthur feel better that someone qualified judges that horrid man that took Arthur off the main medication that used to keep him healthy and stable a year ago just as much as Arthur does. He only wishes that he had come back for an appointment with another doctor sooner. At least, despite his regrets, Arthur’s morning starts off fairly right.

Afterwards, he makes it to work just right on time and ready for an important presentation he had stressed and labored over finalizing last night. Despite not too much immediate reaction – the whole room seemingly having decided to collectively be exhausted – he’s confident that it’s gone well.

Most of his remaining day follows suit with the tiredness, as if the end of his presentation had taken it all out of him, draining him for the remainder of the day. But, on his lunch break, he manages to find some time to be outside by a patch of flowers, making him think of Merlin and how lively and better it makes Merlin just by seeing them. The thought rejuvenates Arthur enough to get on with the rest of the day and even encourages Arthur to buy a few flowers on the way home for Merlin.

The most gentle look falls upon Merlin’s face when Arthur presents him with the flowers and the softest kiss he grants Arthur makes him think that the purchase has most definitely been worth the effort. He opts to bring Merlin flowers more often.


	111. April 20th

On his way home from work -- early because of a shorter meeting than originally thought planned -- Merlin’s chest aches and he possibly has a panic attack? Anxiety attack? Mental breakdown? Not understanding, he contemplates calling Arthur but advises against it until he gets home. But, once home, without calling Arthur once, Merlin makes his way to bed where he stays quietly until Arthur gets home. For reasons he doesn’t understand, he finds himself helplessly shedding constant tears for almost a solid forty-five minutes long. It’s not sobbing, just spilling tears, and it unnerves Merlin to no end; he is not often one to cry.

By the time Arthur makes it home, Merlin hasn’t said a single word and he feels like utter shit. Maybe it’s allergies?

Fuck, he feels like crap and he really doesn’t want to get up.

“Merlin?” Arthur calls out and Merlin can hear him make his way around the flat. Merlin can’t bring himself to speak.

“Merlin?” Merlin hears again, this time coming from around the doorframe. And within seconds, Arthur finds him. “There you are, Mer-“ It only takes a split second to assess the situation. “Oh, Merlin.”

Before Merlin can fully register Arthur moving, he’s already made his way onto the bed, pulling Merlin in.

“What is it, love?” Arthur asks gently and while it makes Merlin feel better, it also makes him feel worse because that’s exactly it; he doesn’t know. He tells Arthur just that.

“I honestly don’t know, but I hurt. Something it wrong, so very wrong. I can feel it.”

He gets into stints like this very, very rarely, where he can physically feel some sort of imbalance, something off kilter and just plain wrong and it aches him. Merlin doesn’t understand why this happens -- maybe he’s crazy; he’s definitely entertained the idea enough over the years.

“Anxiety wrong?” Arthur asks him, slowly, knowingly yet confused. Concerned. “Panic wrong? Or day you woke up crying knowing your father had passed wrong?”

Merlin feels worse suddenly.

“Is it sick wrong?” Arthur asks quietly. “You’ve said you’ve been feeling a bit unwell lately?”

“I don’t know?” Merlin poses it as a question, as if he doesn’t actually know the answer. He doesn’t actually know the answer. “A- all of it? I don’t- Arthur, I really don’t know,” he admits miserably, painfully.

“Alright,” Arthur tells him, kissing at the corners of Merlin’s eyes where the skin is still wet with tears.

Scared, defeated, Merlin whispers, “I don’t know what to do.”

This time, Arthur kisses the sides of Merlin’s nose.

“Let me take care of you.”

Not seeing any other means of solution, Merlin lets him.


	112. April 21th

To under exaggerate, Merlin’s day is interesting. It starts off with a mini picnic with Morgana and Gwen for lunch, which then turns into receiving a sunburn as well as a sparkly gel pen art experiment on Merlin’s arm, then there’s the bouncy house, and to top it all off, a huge debate about the very much likely abortion message of the last Alien movie. At the end of it all, though, the best part of Merlin’s day, other than shaking off the still unsettling events of yesterday, is listening to Arthur tell Merlin about his day.


	113. April 22nd

Today is laundry day and Merlin is stuck wearing a horrid pair of purple pants that clash completely with all the rest of his outfit.

“Why does it matter?” Arthur asks. “They’re going under your trousers where no one can see them. No one’s going to know.”

“I’ll know,” Merlin stresses to Arthur, carefully leaving out a whine about his preference for black pants because they make him feel more empowered because they’ve had that conversation before and Arthur, a distinct lover of red and brown pants, as much as he denies it, still doesn’t understand and would only roll his eyes at Merlin. This is not to mention the fact that he doesn’t even like the purple underpants.

Arthur doesn’t roll his eyes, but it’s a near thing.

“Color suits you, Merlin,” he teases.

++

After a shower, late at night, Merlin readies himself for bed, dressing only in pink pants out of spite of Arthur’s earlier teasing, but the joke’s on Merlin because as it turns out, Arthur finds that this color suits Merlin far better.


	114. April 23rd

Arthur and Merlin have a rather pleasant day together filled with laughter, junk food, and incorrect GPS. The downside, really, is that Merlin develops a near migraine. On occasion, seemingly randomly, the right side of his head will strike out in pain, which is unusual seeing as it’s usually the left side that bothers him. Pain the right side rarely ever happens, and for some reason this is worse than ever. It raises cause for concern to both himself and Arthur, but Merlin refuses to let Arthur take the brunt of that worry, much to Arthur’s arguing chagrin. He compensates by letting Arthur baby and coo over him in bed, not even letting him take his nightly shower so they don’t have to spend another second out of each other’s arms. Merlin has to admit, it always does feel nice to have Arthur hold him close, even if it’s in fussing worry.


	115. April 24th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't tell if the writer's block is because I'm lazy, emotionally compromised, fucked over by time, stressed over finals, or because my mind is also on other stories... Or maybe I just haven't experienced anything or any thought exciting enough to inspire a lengthy chapter... Here's to hoping for a/my peripeteia...

Both Merlin and Arthur find themselves feeling unwell today, Merlin will the head thing and Arthur with sinus infection? Allergies? A cold? Anyways, they still manage to make it to brunch, mostly because Morgana would have nagged about them missing again otherwise. Really, they just wishes to get back home as their new joint leisure book was a fiction spy story that they both were rather excited to get back to.


	116. April 25th

Every single one of Arthur’s meetings for the day ends up cancelled, leaving Arthur with a lot more free time than expected. Of course, this means that he must spend the time wisely on other work and he does, truly, but no one can really fault him for taking an extra long lunch to spend with Merlin, right? There's this big cherry blossom tree that is finally in bloom in front of Merlin's building that Merlin took the time to photograph and text to Arthur just this morning. Not to mention some college students are apparently playing music nearby for charity or some such and Arthur knows Merlin must want to write about it. Plus, it would just be nice to be with Merlin, so really, can anyone really fault Arthur for taking some further time still to enjoy with Merlin?


	117. April 26th

"I have to write ten pages worth of a project for tomorrow and I'm only just on the top of page three and that's only because I used four really long quotes, two paragraphs, and then this one sentence that I'm actually pretty sure is the same six words just reorganized for four whole lines, so my mind is scattered and all over the place, but anyways, I love you, darling, how was your day?" comes out of Merlin's mouth in what must have been a single breath.

"Well, if you can make your paragraphs run anything like that one sentence, I'm sure you'll manage just fine. It's just a draft due tomorrow, isn't it?" Arthur asks, kissing Merlin's head as he makes his way to plop down next to him on the couch.

"Yes, but still." Blinking at his laptop screen, Merlin blankly states, "I think I wrote the same sentence into one sentence three times in about four different ways."

"Let me see," Arthur not-quite-offers as he lifts Merlin's laptop from his lap, filling its absence with his head as he lounges on his back and puts the laptop onto his own chest.

Merlin sighs, but Arthur can feel Merlin's body relax before he places one hand in Arthur's hair. Arthur hums in response as he scrolls through Merlin's work.

"How was your day?" Merlin asks again, this time softly, less stressed, only somewhat more focused.

"Tiring," Arthur tells him truthfully.

"Mm."

"Yours?"

For a moment, Arthur closes his eyes when Merlin runs the tip of one of his fingers over the shell of Arthur's ear, then he goes back to reading.

"Same. I'm tempted to just push this off again until the morning so I can have a nice lie down with you already."

"Well. I am lying down and we both know that you will refuse to get up early enough to finish this and have it printed on time, so I suggest you work on it some more."

"I don't even want to imagine what I'd do without you," Merlin says sarcastically, straight-faced, but his eyes betray the true meaning, the true weight behind his words.

"Nor I without you," Arthur tells him genuinely, gently.

Merlin's face softens out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I have ten pages worth of a first draft for one of my final papers due tomorrow morning and I am so not prepared.


	118. April 27th

It is a hilarious day for Arthur, and then he ends up sick. He tries to brave it, but Merlin has always had this annoying habit of reading Arthur like a book, especially when he's ill, and so Merlin ends up coddling Arthur just as much as he ends up scolding him for his ignorance.


	119. April 28th

Arthur falls asleep on a bench outside his office today, feeling quiet and sleepy because of what is either a building cold or allergies. Admittedly, Lance and Leon do permit his brief nap with the promise to wake him before they should be heading back to the office. However, Arthur ends up waking himself up when it gets a little too cold. He then ends up lying on the floor of one of the stairwells while Leon and Lance continue whatever it was they were discussing beforehand on the bench.

When he gets home, Merlin is already there with medicine and a blanket to wrap around Arthur because somehow, he just always know what Arthur needs. And soon enough, Arthur is making his way back to sleep, tucked up nice and warm in Merlin’s arms.


	120. April 29th

Being the last Friday of the month, it means that Merlin and Arthur are to have a date night. However, with Arthur still feeling shoddy, they forego a fancy dinner and just order burgers and chips after a stroll in the park, instead. Then at home, they settle down for light touches, gentle massages, and more read aloud readings from their spy book.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um.


	121. April 30th

It is a marvel, Merlin muses to himself, how one of the most captivating scenes he has ever been lucky enough to behold is a half awake, sleep rumpled Arthur with his hair a mess and nothing on but his tight little pants hung low on his hips, teasing a slight peak of his crack when he bends forward over the bathroom sink to spit out the foamy residue of his toothpaste.


	122. May 1st

Neither Merlin nor Arthur is exactly sure how it happens, but after brunch, the boys find themselves playing naked hide and seek in their flat. They’re also not really sure who wins, but at the end of it, Arthur ends up on his stomach while Merlin paints his back for a small handful of hours after Merlin finds Arthur – Arthur finds Merlin? – amongst Merlin’s art supplies – the supplies he regretfully hasn’t used in months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An entire third of the year is over now!


	123. May 2nd

Arthur leans sideways on the edge of the bed, one leg tucked under him with the other stretched out so that his foot can rest on the bedframe. On one of the dressers further off, the one that holds most of their collectively read books, three small beach themed candles emit faint glows. Their collective light reflects the golden shine of Arthur’s hair. With one forearm resting on the bed, palm flattened to the bedcover, his free hand reaches out to unlock his phone. Barely making it to the second number, Arthur pulls back to press the back of his hand against his open mouth where a hiccup has escaped. His neck is stretched back and his wide eyes flicker to meet Merlin’s, alight in his amusement. Arthur is quick to glare but unlike the candles, there is no true heat in the look. That is, until Arthur hiccups again and Merlin has to bite back a giggle. In apology, Merlin draws up a hand of his own to run his fingers soothingly over Arthur’s throat.


	124. May 3rd

"Nghh, no, no, no..."

The thrusting is divine, the angle is bliss, the pressure is just perfect, the intensity is heaven, the position is encouraging, but his stance...

The thrusting stops.

"We're driving and we've neared a traffic light. What color is the light?"

He wants to say green, gods, he wants to say green.

He huffs despairingly, tries not to cry out. "Red."

So slowly, achingly slow, Merlin pulls out, hands soothing over Arthur's body traveling from thighs to arse to sides to back.

Breathing out in relief and because he finally feels like he fully can, Arthur takes a moment to collect himself before allowing Merlin to help him into a comfortable, none straining whatsoever position on the bed. Merlin follows alongside him shortly thereafter, still smoothing his hands over Arthur's body.

"Want to talk about it?" Merlin asks him gently, his voice only just above a whisper, but it's asked close to his ear.

"Cramp. Joint between my groin and thigh. Was just too much," he admits quietly, burying his now shamefully burning face into his pillow. It sounds stupid now.

"Shh," Merlin soothes him as if he knows what Arthur's thinking. And maybe he does. "Turn over."

Arthur hesitates a moment, but Merlin's reassuring touch never once leaving his skin prompts Arthur to follow through. Rather soon, he's glad he does, as Merlin immediately takes to carefully kneading the area, eliciting soft grunts and groans from Arthur as his tightened muscles loosen and relax.

After a while, Arthur has calmed and eased considerably and though he feels like apologizing, he knows Merlin prefers the trust of using of their safeword over an apology any day, but he's still sorry just as much as he is grateful, so he gives as much comfort as he can in comparison to the comfort he is getting by nosing along Merlin's hairline. When Merlin presses a kiss to his jugular, Arthur's fairly sure Merlin knows what he means anyway.


	125. May 4th

Absolutely not a single spectacular thing goes on today, even though Merlin and Arthur do try out a new pizza place. However, the pizza is decent, much like most of the pizza places they have been vacating around town through the years, and just not up to the standards they're trying to meet.


	126. May 5th

As done on rare occasion, Arthur makes it home before Merlin. As done on even rarer occasion, the first thing Arthur does upon his arrival home is change into joggers and a sweatshirt before faceplanting on their bed and nodding off for a few hours. When he wakes, it is to Merlin sitting in bed beside his head, carding his fingers through Arthur's sweat dampened hair.

"Oh, sweetheart. I didn't realize you were getting this sick," Merlin manages to worry and chastise in one.

Arthur grouses. He doesn't really want to be sick in the first place, let alone have Merlin know about it and worry.

"S'not so bad."

Merlin hums like he believes him, but his eyes practically shout that they know Arthur's lying right through his teeth. As if to reprimand, the hand in Arthur's hair pulls away, stirring a whine from low in Arthur's throat; low under the mucus and soreness, causing it to sound mildly strangled. He must sound desperate because the hand soon returns. However, in Merlin's other hand there's a pill bottle with words such as "chest congestion" and "relief" and "health" and it makes Arthur groan.

"You have to get better somehow, Arthur, and it's not just going to naturally pass on by."

"You don't know that," Arthur argues, but takes the pill bottle and the bottled water Merlin offers immediately afterwards.

"Still. Besides, we're watching Kara's dogs tonight while she's away visiting her dad in hospital because Mordred's dog's in heat again, so it's better to be prepared."

Arthur groans again.

++

Later that night, most of their bed is taken up by Kara's larger, heavily panting bear-like dog while her mini fuzzball dog rummages in its cat carrier -- "Seriously?" -- on the bedroom floor in the corner doing god knows what. The windows are open for the benefit of the big dog and his breath stinks in Arthur's face. Arthur's wet hair curling around his ears makes his ears hurt with the cold of his hair is pressed tightly against his skin by the cold of the air coming in from the window. He tries to shut the windows most of the way, only leaving the slightest crack, and by the time he's made it back to bed, the damned dog is laying in his spot, head on Merlin's chest and all. Trying to move the dog only causes it to take up more of Arthur's usually space. Resolved, he tries to accommodate the situation as best he can when he's forced to cuddle up to the dog. But then, Merlin shifts in his sleep, bringing his upper half closer to Arthur, nearly bonking their heads together, and Arthur thinks that maybe this will be okay. And then the blasted dog shifts and somehow ends up in a small growling match with the little caged dog until Arthur manages to shut the big one up. However, this just leaves the little one to grumble to himself. Snuggling just that much closer, Arthur tries to shove his face against any exposed part of Merlin he can reach -- neck, shoulder, bicep, armpit, anything -- and just stuff it all out from his mind. In his sleep, Merlin puffs little breaths against Arthur's wet hair, causing him to shiver and press in tighter until Merlin, still sleeping, the bastard, hums some sort of dreamy satisfaction.


	127. May 6th

Arthur, still feeling rather ill, manages to convince Merlin that they need to spend the night curled up in bed watching thriller supernatural based shows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent all day catching up on Damien rather than work on my final papers and I've already spilled my heart out to Haley with my thoughts on Damien, so I really don't have much left to say today. Whoops.


	128. May 7th

Not quite in the mood to cook this morning, Merlin and Arthur decide to have a nice little morning out at a nearby bagel place. While there, the little shop’s surround system plays the gentlest tunes that inspire some new music exploration when the men get home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Out of my own curiosity..... I've been wondering if there's anything/scene in particular that any readers would like to read about/happen to the boys?


	129. May 8th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Raphaëlle, I really wanted to write more for you, but with two final papers (well, okay, one paper and four edited and finalized scripts) due early tomorrow morning, this is the best I can give you for today's brunch. But, maybe next week's brunch will go better?

Today is Mother’s Day, but it is also brunch day. Since Merlin’s mother was nominated mother of the group years ago, when the rest of the mothers to Merlin and Arthur’s friends had either passed on (Lance) or moved too far out of contact (Percival) or too far out of the country to often contact (Leon), they all invite Hunith to join them. By extent, because he was there with Hunith when she had the speakerphone on when Merlin called her to invite her, Gaius is invited, too.

The thing about brunch is that sometimes they eat out, like when they’re all too lazy to cook, while other times they all gather to one couple’s home to enjoy a nice home cooked meal. Because Merlin’s mother (and Gaius, but really just Hunith) is the guest of honor, Merlin decides that they will be enjoying brunch at his and Arthur’s place. 

For years, Merlin made the best scrambled eggs his friends and family had ever had. It was one of his brunch specialties to make egg-based meals, but for some reason, he’s lost his touch within the past year or so. He doesn’t know what happened, but he’s been trying to get his mojo back and it just isn’t working. Today, he’s hoping for the best.

Morgana and Leon’s chosen food to bake and bring for today is bread-based foods while Gwen and Lance bring sweets and biscuits. Gwaine and Percival have decided to try being adventurous by bringing the most colorful and edible… thing… they could create. Arthur thinks Percival must have put more effort into it than Gwaine, or at least snuck in some secret ingredients because it ends up being one of the best things the entire group has ever tasted and when ask about the recipe, Gwaine says that he has no clue and that it’s not very likely that they will be baking the exact same thing ever again. Percival, on the other hand, has a look about him that says otherwise. Or maybe Merlin and Arthur are just full of wishful thinking. As for Hunith being the guest of honor, she was specifically told not to bring anything, but she ended up bringing fruit platters. Gaius, as predicted, brings some herb things.


	130. May 9th

It's a stressful morning because of course it is and honestly it's all Arthur's fault. He knew he shouldn't have procrastinated so such a major report, but he really hasn't been with it lately. And admittedly, no matter how early he wakes, he still butchers the damn thing. But quite honestly? He can’t quite bring himself to care. 

Then, things get better when lunch is spent outside in such wonderful weather and for some reason, there’s wonderful free food offered. 

To top off his day, Arthur has an eye doctor’s appointment, at the end of which leads him to buying new prescription glasses – ones that he has taken such a strong liking and interest to that he thinks maybe he’ll start wearing more often from now on rather than contacts; he’s been getting a bit sick of contacts. The former news makes Merlin rather giddy, if Arthur does say so himself.


	131. May 10th

For a change, it is Leon who is injured, not Morgana, and it is Arthur who is driving him to a doctor's appointment, not Merlin driving Morgana; although Merlin does end up driving Morgana home early to take care of Leon.

"You know," Merlin muses from Arthur's side, as they watch Morgana pretend like she's not cooing over Leon, "It is a wonder how both our companies remain running so strong."

Arthur chuffs and brushes his shoulder up against Merlin's.

"That's only because I have Lance and you have Gwen when things go bottom up."

"Mm. We should all thank them sometime."

"Yes, but the question is how?"

Merlin contemplates for a moment.

"We'll think of something. Now come on, let's say our goodbyes and get going so Morgana can baby over Leon in peace."

"I heard that!" Leon yells from across the room.

"Let's not pretend my dear brother doesn't pout until you baby him when he's unwell, Merlin."

Arthur squawks indignantly, "Now hold on!" But Merlin only laughs.


	132. May 11th

Today, Merlin is prescribed a new medication for anxiety and then his laptop crashes just as he begins working on a huge project due tomorrow. He sees the irony in this, but instead of being able to laugh about it, he can do little more than tense his fingers, clenching and unclenching them into fists as he strains a vein in his forehead while grinding his teeth. When Arthur finds him like this, he pressed his own forehead to Merlin's and carefully uncurls Merlin's fingers enough to be able to twine his own in between them, letting Merlin squeeze the fragile bones there until he aches so much it causes his breath to catch. And then Merlin realizes how worked up he's become and then makes himself focus on checking over every inch of skin on Arthur's hands, even against Arthur's insistence that he's alright and that it's Merlin that Arthur is worried about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone reading on ffnet, I will post on there when I get internet back on my laptop or whatever...


	133. May 12th

Merlin has another… day… and wishes he could just shut off, but… but it’s never that simple. He hurts his foot somehow, goes to the neurologist and gets some tests schedules even though the doctor can’t really figure out what’s wrong and is sure it’s nothing which is, like, wonderful, great, such a help. And then he can’t help making a little bit of an ass of himself when they attend someone’s birthday dinner – what the hell was their name? Why doesn’t he remember anyone having a birthday today? What the hell is going on? Somehow, he ends up driving himself and Arthur home, telling Arthur to shut up every time he open his mouth, knuckles white on the steering wheel and cramping all the way from his fingers to his shoulder blades. And what the fuck is seriously up with his foot?

When they get home, he rushes up to their apartment and straight to the washer and dryer, changing out the dried clothes he forgot to unload before leaving.

“You’re scaring me a little,” Arthur tells him cautiously from the doorway of their bedroom as Merlin shoves his underwear into his underwear and socks drawer.

Merlin tries not to shove the drawer closed; really he has to put a great deal of effort into it.

“Yeah, well, you think I don’t scare myself when I’m like this?” is all he can really ask.

He starts to scratch at the nape of his neck, only to drop his hand the next moment, scowling and growling internally. It’s one of his goddamn tell tale signs.

“Talk to me,” Arthur guides him evenly. “Tell me what you need from me.”


	134. May 13th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. I'm in a state. And I just can't do full out story writing. I'm just going to give bits and moments. In single sentences. Becuase I really can't do more than that right now.

Moments from today:

It rains today, which is soothing to Arthur when he listens to it through his open office window while he works. He hopes Merlin is enjoying the rain, too, knowing that he is already stressed enough today.

++

At lunch, Arthur gets a call from his eye doctor; his new glasses have come in.

++

Arthur does not quite remember the glasses being this big on his face, but then again, his eyes were very much dilated at the time…

++

“I love them, but this just leaves less surface area for me to kiss when you’re wearing them,” Merlin informs him.

++

Merlin has his MRI today and it…

Well…

“You’re not claustrophobic, right?”

“Uh… Am I allowed to close my eyes?”

“Yeah, sure. Think of it as taking a little nap.”

Naps, little or no, do not consist of stiffness and angsty, loud noises. 

The man puts a cage-like device around his face.

“You okay?”

“This is weird.”

“Haha, yeah. Sort of like Hannibal Lector, right? Hah.”

The machine starts to slide him inside it.

++

“How was that?”

“Uh. Weird.”

He walks stiffly yet wobbly away.

++

They go back out to dinner with their friends again. Merlin find himself being rather quiet, something that disquiets Arthur.

++

A small child, no older than five at another table orders a plate of chips and nothing more for his dinner. What must be his cousin, who can be no older than twenty-five and sits by his side, orders a burger and chips. By the time the older cousin finishes her burger, without having touched a single one of her chips, her little cousin has finished half of his chips. When he notices all the chips on his cousin’s plate, he complains, “You have more chips than me.” His cousin gives him the blandest look Merlin has ever seen, rivaling even Morgana, and he can’t help but to burst out laughing. Merlin’s own table turns to look at him questioningly, but he just shakes his head.

++

When they get home, Merlin finds himself freaking out again and races off to his study, needing some alone time. He tells Arthur that it’s all just too much; whatever ‘it’ is.

++

“I just really need to be the big spoon tonight, but I don’t know if it’s because I need to hold you tight or because I just need to not be constricted and suffocated. Not that you would do that, but...” 

Merlin shrugs helplessly, unable to maintain eye contact.

Arthur turns over, reaching back for Merlin’s arm to lightly drape over him and then rearrange as he so pleases.

Merlin can’t bring himself to press his lips to skin, to so kindly kiss. He curls up and places his face against the nape of Arthur’s neck, eyes starring into darkness until they are too heavy to stay open.


	135. May 14th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Denise, you wanted an unreasonable fight, so this one's for you!

"Why the fuck can't you do it?" Merlin shouts, his voice raising with every word. "You're right there. Right. Fucking. _There_!"

"I shouldn't have to do it!" Arthur yells back, as if that's valid, as if that _explains it all_.

"I've done the most work today!" 

"Well, my work ended me up in pain."

"You are _always_ in pain."

"Because look at the work I have to do!"

" _This isn't that difficult_!"

And besides, Merlin is about half way through taking a shower while Arthur is prepared to stay dirty.

"Then you shouldn't have any problem doing it!"

There's a knock at the door and Merlin, naked as the day he was born and ready for the kill, jumps out of the shower and rushes to the goddamn door. As luck would have it, his hope of traumatizing Arthur triples when Merlin opens the door to find their downstairs neighbor, an old woman who goes by Dolma and quite possibly has a bit of a sweet spot for Arthur.

Before she can so much as get anything out past a gasp, Merlin is smiling (quite possibly like the maniac he feels he's being because _fuck_ he hasn't pulled a stunt like this since _those years_ , the ones he doesn't like talking about) and telling her to, "have a great night," and "love the new dress," and then slamming the door in her bug-eyed face.

" _Mer_ lin!"

Merlin swings his still sopping body around, inadvertently flinging shampoo almost into his eye.

"I'm sleeping on the fucking couch tonight."

And then he strops back off to the bathroom, swinging the door shut behind him with a firm click to the lock.


	136. May 15th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Raphaëlle. Denise. Anyone else reading this that hasn't introduced themselves yet. And possibly Haley, but lbr. This is going to hurt.

Around the middle of the night, Merlin’s anger has dwindled to morose and sadness and something self acclaimed with a sticky bitterness in his throat. The couch is more comfortable than he deserves so he punishes himself with medication and watery eyes and plucking his pubes with his thumbs and pointer fingers because he’s still getting used to his new haircut and his cousin will kill him if he fucks up all his hard work. But on the subject of pubic hair: since when did they get so long? Exactly how long has Merlin just not been caring for himself?

He’s a grown man, for fuck’s sake; a grown man who’s voluntarily sleeping on his own couch after acting like a psycho asshole and flashing his neighbor.

Merlin turns his head to burrow his face deep into the pillow under him as if he isn’t suffocating enough.

Something sick roils in his stomach, bubbling along his ribs and sending a burn up his throat. He feels nearly violent with illness like he wants to vomit and for a few desperately scary moments he thinks he just might. That is, until he realizes he’s actually just really sick with himself.

His head hurts and he thinks of the hospital. He’s been thinking of it a little more than usual lately and that horrifies him. He can’t go back; he won’t, not after all these years. The sad thing is that he knows he won’t be going back. He just habitually goes through these panics around this time of year out of some years old habit.

Merlin blames himself and now he’s condemned himself to this couch that is still far too good for him because he’d spent years on couches and this couch – often like Arthur – is just far too good for Merlin. He doesn’t deserve it, just like he doesn’t deserve to be able to wish for him and Arthur to be wrapped up in each other’s arms right now.

It’s times like this that he remembers why he hasn’t had a full blown crying session for years – because he doesn’t fucking deserve that either. Not even now.

Earlier, when his meds had first kicked in, his eyelids were drooping tiredly and his face had a little smile of bliss his natural brain chemicals rarely create on their own anymore. He had almost fallen asleep like that, but something in him must have strongly reminded all the rest of him that he does not deserve that, that instead, he deserves to be awake and suffering with heavily aching eyelids half open, refusing to close and–

A creak in the floorboards only just startles him from his thoughts enough to make a sudden change in his breathing.

It’s probably nothing, maybe his imagination. He deserves mind tricks that convince him that Arthur, lonely in their big bed and missing him, has decided to come to him.

Merlin turns his face halfway away from the pillow and closes his eyes, not needing the disappointment of checking over the arm of the couch only to discover an empty hallway. For a moment, he wonders if it might be worse to actually find Arthur standing there.

The clearing of a throat -- Arthur’s to be exact, because Merlin knows it wasn’t his own -- makes him open his eyes. The first thing they see is Arthur in sweats and a t-shirt, his still really huge glasses perches on the bridge of his nose, hair a mess as if he’s been tossing and turning for hours, and what, in the darkness of only moonlight, looks to be his glasses case in one hand. And suddenly Merlin is left feeling empty and sad; so very sad.

“Baby?” Arthur whispers softly and it makes the emptiness inside him hurt. “Merlin?”

“Yeah,” Merlin tries to respond back, but it’s so gentle and raw that he’s pretty sure it just sounds like some sort of single syllable. Or perhaps he hasn’t said a single thing at all. Did he really even open his mouth?

For a moment Arthur hovers, but in the next he’s right there in front of Merlin. And then the glasses are missing from Arthur’s face and the glasses case is placed on the coffee table. 

Merlin thinks he should move back; should let Arthur join him. But Merlin doesn’t deserve that yet. Apparently Arthur doesn’t getting the message, though, as he tentatively sits on the edge of the couch, carefully not touching any of Merlin. It seems like Arthur wants to touch Merlin, but he doesn’t and Merlin can’t tell if it’s because Arthur thinks Merlin is still mad at him or if it's because he’s scared of Merlin and gods, if that doesn’t just make his body want to wrack with sobs.

“I’m sorry,” he forces from his lungs, up his neck, and past his teeth before his throat clogs up tight. He buries his face back into the pillow. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Perhaps the world has chosen to forgive him for all he’s ever done by finally finishing him off because there’s no other reason for him to be choking so.

He can’t help but to think that the worst of it all that he still can’t fucking cry.

“I’m sorry.”

And then there is a real suffocating pressure, first from an unexpected bout of momentary cold and then from a squeezing around his ribs into his lungs and by some miracle he can breath again, but his breaths come in big gulps of air. A single, spare moment is spent concerned that it might cause him to hiccup, which he knows will hurt but not as much as he deserves.

His face turns from the pillow and meets something warmer. Firmer. Softer. Something quickly growing damp.

“I’m sorry.” 

But it’s not Merlin who says it this time. He breathes in and forces himself snugger into whatever is allowing him to do so.

“I’m sorry.” 

It’s still not said by Merlin and suddenly he gets it. It’s Arthur’s arms around him, tight enough to ground him, but loose enough to keep him from going six feet under.

“I’m sorry.”


	137. May 16th

They take things tentatively today, first by waking together, held in a loose embrace on their bed, then by Arthur giving Merlin his space while Merlin simultaneously thanks him and apologizes. Arthur is quick to hush him with slowly, carefully drawn out reassurances. Merlin hates that Arthur feels that he has to be careful, that he most likely does have to be careful, but at the same time, Merlin can’t really blame him.

Merlin finds himself using a lot of commas in his writings today. 

Before he even makes it home from work, just about every bit of dead skin is ripped from his bottom lip by his teeth, leaving it soft like all the words he has spoken today.

At night, after they both have showered and readied for bed, Merlin takes the time to silently lie and observe Arthur beside him as he scrolls through some news site or other on his laptop. His hair is slicked back off his forehead, still a bit damp from his shower and weak attempt at towel drying. Halfway down the bridge of his nose rests his glasses, somewhat askew. Arthur had complained earlier in the day that the right arm has been looser than the left and that it has been bothering him all day. Maybe Merlin should write a reminder to remind Arthur to get that fixed tomorrow. 

Scrolling coming to a stop, Arthur looks over to Merlin.

“What?” he asks, noticing Merlin looking at him, too.

There’s this one stubborn hair that is curling at the top of Arthur’s ear, rather than behind it like all the rest of Arthur’s hairs, so Merlin reaches up to push it back. Then, just because he can - and, well, his hand is already there anyways, so he might as well – he uses his nails and fingertips to trace over the shell of Arthur’s ear.

“Just wondering what I ever did to be lucky enough to end up with someone so handsome,” he admits softly.

“Been looking in the mirror a lot lately, have you?” Arthur teases, but his smile is soft, fond.

“No, just at you,” he whispers, timid and shy.

Arthur catches him by the forearm before he turns his head to place a delicate kiss on Merlin's wrist and Merlin thinks that maybe they'll be okay. Or more accurately, he really, really hopes.


	138. May 18th

“The day starts like the rest I’ve seen.”

Arthur comes home to find Merlin singing in the kitchen while he cooks dinner. Merlin notices him the moment he steps into the room, acknowledging him with a shy glance and attempt at a smile. Things aren’t uneasy between them, but Merlin is not at ease with himself and Arthur knows Merlin needs his time and space to sort himself out.

“And all the carbon copy of where I’ve already been.”

It had sent a warm feeling in more ways than one when Merlin had texted Arthur as he was leaving work to remind him to get his glasses looked at and to pick up his medication prescription Merlin had ordered to be refilled last week on that little chemist mobile app Arthur still can’t figure out.

“Days keep coming one on one, and they keep coming.”

Arthur decides to sit silently and watch Merlin work, listen to him sing a sweet little Broadway tune.

“Don’t know what I wish I had.”

Merlin has a not-so-secretly deep passion for the stage, but it’s not often that he will play show tunes and even less often that he will sing along. And while this particular tune is very upbeat, Merlin keeps his voice low and quiet.

“But there’s no time now.”

The oven is on, preheating in preparation for the potatoes Merlin is cutting up. Arthur’s not entirely sure what he’s going for, but the potatoes are being cut into small bits and pieces on a cutting board before being transferred to tinfoil on a baking sheet. Beside the sheet is a tub of olive oil, the shaker of sea salt, the pepper grounder, garlic powder, and some cheese. Arthur hopes it’s mozzarella.

“For thinking of things like that.”

On the stove, there’s what looks to be raw chicken breasts in a skillet of more olive oil.

“I’ve got too much to do.”

A simple enough dinner, Arthur thinks, with just enough needed concentration and patience to keep Merlin stimulated and preoccupied from his more dangerous of thought territories.

“We’ve got too much to do.”  
But Merlin doesn’t look too out of his element or his wits or his depths today. Mostly, he just looks wary and tension ridden.

 

“Opening up, letting the day in.”

A bottle of wine sits open close to Arthur, a halfway filled wineglass placed by the stove that looks to have not yet been otherwise touched, and another empty glass beside the bottle.

“Pour you a cup, and say, ‘Hello, how ya been?’”

Here, Merlin pours a glass of wine for Arthur and stops singing, as if this has been some big elaborate lead into saying hello and asking after Arthur’s day. Actually, now that Arthur’s thinking about it that sounds exactly like something Merlin would do.

“Ever better now that I’m with you, sugar” he tells him, pausing for a moment after before adding, “butter” and “flour,” swiping his wineglass to immediately take a sip from while Merlin processes what Arthur has said. He has listened to the show’s soundtrack enough times to be able to at least make that joke.

Merlin catches on fairly quickly if the indignant squawk is anything to go by, but at least he waits for Arthur to put his wineglass back down before smacking at his shoulder with the clean back of his hand.

“Would you have preferred it if I sang ‘Never Ever Getting Rid of Me’ instead?”

Merlin flips him off with both fingers and his tongue as he turns back to his cooking, but he’s smiling, so Arthur knows he’s said the right thing. He keeps going for the jest.

‘I Didn’t Plan it.’ I swear.”

Arthur can see Merlin struggling either not to laugh or not to verbally tell him to fuck off.

“But even if I did, I’m not sure it would have been a ‘Bad Idea’ seeing as ‘You Matter to Me.’”

This time when Merlin turns back, his face has gone soft and his shoulders have lost a little bit more of the tension he’s been holding in for the past few days. Arthur can’t really help but to gesture Merlin closer, then grab him when he’s close enough, and pull him in for a kiss.

When he pulls away after, Merlin tells him, “Sweet talk me all you want, but it won’t get you any pie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song:  
> Opening Up from the Broadway show, "Waitress." Written by Sara Bareilles.  
> All the other songs mentioned are songs from the show.
> 
> The joke:  
> The show starts off with the cast singing "sugar" and "butter" over and over, and then later adding "flour." It's also in the end and just really a running thing throughout the musical. Idk.
> 
> Notes:  
> I just really admire Sara Bareilles, okay?
> 
> Also, I have no idea what I'm doing. Ever. (: But I passed all my finals, so I must have been doing something right for a while.


	139. May 18th

His hands span wide up and down Merlin’s bare back underneath his t-shirt when he asks quietly, “Do you feel like you can breathe a bit better today?”

“Well,” Merlin seems to consider, “I don’t think the stuffy nose really helped much.”

“Merlin,” Arthur tries again.

Merlin releases a sigh, tucking his head under Arthur’s chin as if he either doesn’t quite have the courage to look Arthur in the eye, or maybe because he feels that making a confessional might be easier this way; curled up tight and close in Arthur’s safe embrace. Arthur drops a kiss to the top of his head either way.

“I don’t feel like I’m suffocating in all the wrong ways,” he admits which upsets Arthur, who knows to interpret it as ‘I only feel like I’m suffocating in most of the wrong ways.’ He goes to loosen his hold on Merlin, to give him some more room to breathe, but Merlin quietly, shyly, but determinedly protests, “When you hold me, I feel like I’m at a lose of air in all the right ways.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've realized that I've only ever talked about merlin getting a haircut in this fic... Let's just all imagine that Arthur gets his haircut, too, in his free time that I haven't written about because seriously, there are some big inconsistencies and off camera things in this fic..


	140. May 19th

Before half-past four in the morning, Merlin wakes with the worst stomach pain he has ever had in his life. It gets so bad, that for a few solid minutes, he honestly thinks he might die. Forehead warm according to his palm, but tepid according to the underside of his wrist, sweat lightly sheens his face as he thinks that this is finally it; that all his guilt and shame and darkness has grown such a deep, dark pit inside him that is going to kill him. For a second he believes he deserves to go this way while his body cries out with a whimper of disagreement. 

He stretches his back, but that only causes him to ache in more places. He gets up, walks around the apartment for a time, tries to drink some water. Filling up one more mouth full, he can't stand to be on his feet any longer so he lies down on his left side. Left side is always good, he thinks, remembering the babysitting classes he took when he was much younger. Slowly, through little baby sips, he starts to drink the water in his mouth. At one point it gets terrifying; he thinks he's going to throw up, but he carries on, extending the length of time between swallows until he's downed the whole thing. No longer does he feel like he has to throw up, but he thinks his stomach is still trying to kill him.

Merlin turns on his right side, just in case he's wrong. With a sharp gasp of pain, he discovers that he was wrong to change positions. There is instantly a stirring beside him and Merlin realizes that his short cry of distress has woken Arthur up. Quickly as he can, Merlin tries to shift back onto his left side before Arthur can get the chance to read the pure pain on Merlin's face. And he knows it's written clearly there, his head is starting to ache from the tension in his furrowed brows. But, before he can even get half way there, a new pulse of pain jolts through him and he can't help his whining.

"M'rlin?"

Merlin makes to stand up, to leave Arthur to peacefully sleep without having to deal with Merlin's fitfulness, but he must pull up too sharply because suddenly he's in pain again. Making to cross his legs underneath him, Merlin grabs at his shirt, pulling it up enough to slip his hands underneath so he can press his warm palms to his stomach.

"Merlin?"

Merlin registers movement behind him, of Arthur awakening further and trying to sit up. He wants to push him back, but he can't quite pull his hands away from his skin.

"Go back to sleep," he whispers.

"Merlin?" Arthur asks a third time, placing one cool hand on Merlin's bare hip, fingertips slipping towards his stomach. It makes Merlin feel a bit better. "What is it?"

"Hurts," he moans softly, tightly.

Arthur thankfully must get the message without Merlin having to say anymore because suddenly both of his cool palms are slowly rubbing soothing circles on Merlin's stomach. It helps enough that Merlin feels confident enough to lie back down and attempt to sleep. It only takes him a few minutes.

Sometime after half-past six, Merlin wakes again, whimpering, distressed, and wanting to cry. The pain has worsened. 

Kicking off the blankets in a desperate fit, he once again tries getting up, walking about, and drinking water. It does nothing. He tries to pee -- maybe it's his bladder? But that does nothing but relieve him of the water, so he drinks some more. He goes back to bed, tries sitting criss-cross and rubbing his skin. It makes matters worse. Not wanting to wake Arthur once more, he resolves to lie down and try going back to sleep. He did it once, he can do it again. But lying down makes matters far worse. 

He's covered in a layer of sweat, so he keeps the blanket at his hip. 

Lying on his left side, he tries bringing up one leg -- that hurts -- then the other -- the nausea comes back full force and then some. He puts the first leg back down, and then the other. Carefully, so he doesn't wake Arthur, he tries the same on his other side. The results are the same, maybe even worse. For a while longer, he keeps tossing and turning and moving until he gives up and flattens himself on his back. For real this time, he seriously thinks he going to both vomit and then die. He brings his legs up, getting ready to bolt, when suddenly the pain starts to alleviate just the slightest. He's so shocked, that for a moment he forgets to breathe, which causes a small coughing fit. He wants to make a grab for the water bottle on his bedside table, but he's afraid is he moves to far, the pain will only start back up again in full force. Instead, to stop that, he lifts his arms above his head on the pillow, crossing them over his head and around the sides of his face. He takes his time breathing, eyes closed to help him focus on one pain on a time. Once his breathing settles enough to just big, long, steady gulps, he opens his eyes, deciding to now focus on the placement of his legs. Turns out, the same routine from earlier of dragging one leg up, then the other only makes matters worse. His breathing must turn sporadic with the pain, because at one point, Arthur is suddenly awake again, wiping at his cheeks and the corners of his eyes and telling Merlin to breathe with him. He puts his legs down enough to lie on the bed before touching the sole soles his feet together in comfort. As luck will have it, that's exactly the position he needs to be able to comfortably breathe and fall back asleep.

The next time Merlin wakes, it's just past noon, his stomach only just aching, and his head is foggier than the sea on the most humid days of August. There's a note on the pillow beside him from Arthur, saying he's called him in from work, to stay in bed as long as he can, to call him if he needs him or if he just wants to talk, and to ask if he might text or call when he finally wakes.


	141. May 20th

“I didn’t spend the whole day watching Mr. Robot, that would be ridiculous.”

“You know,” Arthur tips his head down, looking up over the rim of his glasses at Merlin, “you’re horrible at this lying thing.”

“Only when it comes to television series, honestly. And besides, the woman who wrote on the show for our magazine when it aired had to drop out, and it comes back in two months, so I’m stuck doing all the research.”

Arthur snorts. “Right. Because finishing the entire thing within twenty-four hours shows just how ‘stuck’ you are.”

“Oh, shut up. So I liked it. So what?”

“So nothing. It’s good you enjoyed it if you have to be stuck with it.”

Merlin swats at his shoulder but Arthur grabs his hand before it makes contact, caging it between his two hands instead. 

“So are you going to tell me how you’re feeling now? The coughing I heard when I came in sounded fairly cold generic to me and just as mucus filled as your nose sounds.”

And it’s true, this cold has been building up more mucus.

“I get sick all the time; it’s not something I can’t handle. And besides,” he places his free hand over Arthur’s, “I’m boring as a sicky. I want to hear about your day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have done nothing and I think I've been writing a bit too extensively in Merlin's POV. I also think that at the end of the year, I want to come back to all of these entries and add in commentary because I've already gone back through most of the chapters and I've seen so much break and development. Also, we don't have enough hacker AUs in the Merlin fandom (trust me, i checked thoroughly).


	142. May 21st

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh. So I don't want to talk about this. Dear future me, if you come back and read this, I just want to remind you that mozzarella makes a terrible cheese sauce and you said some real shit today, but not enough. Hope you're doing better, future me.

Arthur cries for the first time in years and he hates himself for it so much that he forces himself to stop the moment he starts making noises. He had kept silent, only just shaking, forcing himself not to make any sudden movements, any sudden sounds, even though he is home alone. Except, during his crying session, his fingers got the best of him and send out a text to Merlin to get him home sooner.

Traitorous fucking hands.

Traitorous fucking tear ducts.

And then there’s his traitorous self, thinking he can’t tell people shit, not even Merlin.

But then Merlin is there, home, holding him and Arthur – well, fuck, Arthur is going to start crying again if he can’t get himself under control.


	143. May 22nd

Arthur lights a candle when they're just resting in bed. His hair is a mess, skin both dry and oily at once, and he's in desperate need of a shower, but he refuses to disturb the still tranquillity of the flat. Secretly -- or perhaps not quite secretly if the looks Merlin keeps sending him are anything to go by -- he's not quite over yesterday. Instead of letting the dread drip from his mind to fill his whole head, he just lets it linger, lets it be, like the Earth right after a rainstorm. Tracing at the junction between hip and thigh on Merlin's side, Arthur hopes for a better day.


	144. May 23rd

"I think we need to get out of the flat."

Merlin blinks at Arthur once, twice.

"What?"

"We're both stressed and we've been cooping ourselves up at home for days now. Now I know that Friday is supposed to be our date night, and it still will be. But I think even before then, we need to get out the flat," Arthur explains. "At least just for an hour or two."

Arthur watches as Merlin's mouth falls open, his jaw slowly working as he contemplates what to say.

"I - Yeah," Merlin nods, "Yeah. Yeah, okay."

And so they do; although, first, they end up sitting a parking lot for nearly an hour just talking and debating what to do.

"I could really use some meat," Arthur strongly suggests at one point and Merlin snorts.

"'Course you could. But alright," he continued before Arthur could get too offended or defend himself. "How do you feel about a burger?"

And so, they head off to a burger joint in search of burgers, chips, and peanuts.

"I never know if I'm just supposed to throw these on the floor like at a roadhouse, or if they'd be offended. But I've seen others do it and the employees just clean up once they learn. And yet they just creates more work for them. You know what, let's just get another cardboard container to put the waste in."

"Sorry," Merlin mumbles around a mouthful of peanuts. "Was there any actual story in there?" 

But he's smiling as he says it and his eyes are soft, so instead of teasing right back, Arthur just throws a shelled peanut at his face. Merlin isn't quite quick enough to catch it in his mouth. As Arthur laughs, with Merlin eventually joining in, he decides that this is one of the best outings that they have ever had.


	145. May 24th

They go to a triple concert of jazz band, orchestra, and choral at a local school tonight because Merlin has elected to write on it. Supposedly bad news was given to Arthur today, but he wasn’t surprised in the least; he always knew this would happen. This, however, is not something Arthur takes lightly to discussing, though.

The thing is, both Merlin and Arthur are avid lovers of music, jazz especially. All this sweet beauty and none of it can pacify the feeling that the world is falling apart beneath his feet – or perhaps that’s just the music? – and his walls are drawing up – or is that just the people around him crowding in for the concert?

He realizes in this moment, moving closer to Merlin’s ear so he can hear him, “I don’t think I’ll be ready to talk about it until the day it happens. And even then I might not be able to. I might not ever be able to.” It shakes him, unless of course that’s just music, again.

Turning his head away from the stage, Merlin looks to Arthur, but Arthur hesitates a moment before making eye contact. He takes a deep breath and Merlin grabs his hand and moves in close to Arthur’s ear.

“I’ll be there when you’re ready, and even if you never are, I’ll still be there.”


	146. May 25th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh... Yeah.

They make grilled cheese for dinner because they’re tired and just want to get to bed quickly so they can cuddle their way into falling asleep.


	147. May 26th

"Merlin?" Arthur calls from somewhere behind Merlin.

"Yes, darling?" he asks into the wood of his home office desk.

"What are you doing?"

Merlin smooshes his face further into the desk.

"I don' know what'a wroite."

"What?"

He lifts his face from the desk, turning to look at Arthur.

"I don't know what to write."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't wait to reread this at the end of the year and be like, "what the actual fuck was wrong with me that day and why did I make his desk wood, that was stupid."


	148. May 27th

For the last Friday of the month date, they make dinner and marathon Harry Potter. They start with the first, playing quietly on the telly in the living room as Merlin mixes together sauce for the pasta. Well, okay, Arthur is the one physically mixing the sauce, but technically so is Merlin in a way, as Arthur is stood behind him, front flush up against Merlin’s back, chin resting on his shoulder, with his arms around Merlin, hands placed over Merlin’s on both the pot and the wooden spoon.

“Remind me again why we don’t cook like this more often?” Arthur asks.

“Because last time started with a lot of rutting and ended up with the smoke detector going off.”

The marathon continues on the couch, where Arthur lies on his back while Merlin lies mostly on top of him as if covering him like a blanket. They nearly fall asleep like this, so at the end of the second movie, they decide to move to the bedroom, where they attempt to watch the third. However, Arthur starts up an activity that, in their current positions, shouldn't cause any smoke detectors to go off.

"Are you seriously trying to defile me during Harry Potter?"

"That depends. Is it going to work?"

They don't make it to the fourth movie, but it's a near thing.


	149. May 28th

“Merlin, darling?” Arthur asks from his place at the sink, sudsy from the elbows down. 

“Yes?” Merlin calls from somewhere relatively close behind him.

“Are your hands clean?”

“What?” he laughs.

“I was wondering if you could push my glasses up for me?”

“Course.”

++

“How’s it taste, though?” Gwen asks from across the table where she’s frosting cupcakes.

“Let me try it,” Arthur offers.

A moment later, Merlin feels something cold and slimy on his cheek.

“What--?” he starts, recoiling.

In the next moment, the feeling is replaced by something warm and wet. He screeches out a laugh.

“Arthur!”

“Sugary,” Arthur informs a giggling Gwen.

“I can’t believe you just licked me!”

“I can’t help it if you can make anything taste good, now can I?”

“You’ve a bit of a blue streak on your cheek now, mate,” Lance tells him with politely contained laughter.

"You're lucky I love you enough to keep putting up with you," Merlin tells Arthur.

"Oh, I know," says Arthur with a teasing tone, but his eyes and the stroke of his thumb over Merlin's cheek say just how much he means it.


	150. May 29th

Because of the dreaded heat, Arthur takes a drastic change to his wardrobe starting with a skin tight, somewhat see-through, white muscle shirt that causes Merlin's brain to fritz and momentarily shut down. Sometimes he just can't believe that he's so lucky to be with someone so stunning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	151. May 30th

Merlin plops down on his side of the bed, freshly showered and ready to rest. But first, he’s going to have to apply some lip balm. Turning to reach for the small container of scented Vaseline, Merlin stops himself short when he finds a small, clear plastic container just beside it. The plastic is square shaped, the top have perfectly clear with the bottom, where Merlin presumes the container opens from, is a clearish red. Inside the normally clear part of the box looks to be a tub of lip balm.

This is odd.

“Arthur?” Merlin calls to him in the bathroom.

“Yes?”

“What’s this?”

Brandishing the box in one hand, he waits for Arthur to poke his head into the room and look. 

“You’ve been chewing your lips lately,” is the only explanation Arthur gives before making his way back into the bathroom.

Merlin gives it a second before giving in and opening the lip balm to get a sniff. And if he must say, he is pleasantly surprised by the results.


	152. May 31st

Today, Arthur is really hit by the brunt of a cold, waking with a sore throat and scratchy voice. It amuses Merlin plenty, but it also worries him. There’s been a brutal sickness going around recently. And on top of what’s been irking the forefront of Arthur’s mind as of late? He just doesn’t need to add anything more on top of it. Arthur jokingly hopes it might be a good distraction, and when that upsets Merlin, Arthur distracts him by playing with Merlin’s nipples until he’s squirming and his mind is at a loss from all else but the sensation and the man causing it.


	153. June 1st

They're in the middle of reading a fictional detective story aloud before bed when Arthur feels that he might actually want to talk about what's been weighing heavily on his mind as of late. Or, well, not exactly as of late, as he's had these thoughts before, but...

"Merlin?" Arthur asks, eyes immediately widening.

Merlin stops reading, turns to look at Arthur, and Arthur starts panicking. He hadn't actually thought he'd go out and say anything and now that he has, he's at a loss. Oh god, he's really not ready.

"Nothing," he tells Merlin, pulling at the bedsheets and avoiding his eye.

It takes Merlin a moment to respond. "You sure?"

Slowly, he begins to nod. "Keep-" reading, he wants to say, but can't. He stops nodding.

He sucks in a breath to say, "What if-" before he cuts himself off again, all his breath leaving him suddenly.

"I'm scared," is all he can admit, instead.

Before Merlin can respond to that, Arthur asks him to please keep reading. Thankfully, he does. But if he seems to silently hold Arthur a little tighter, a little closer, when he finishes reading a lies down with Arthur... Well. Arthur's thankful for that, too.


	154. June 2nd

“Do you ever feel like you need to crack your knuckles, except one knuckle won’t crack, so for about half a second you just consider breaking your finger?” Merlin asks, only mostly serious.

Arthur blinks, looking up from their detective book that he’s been reading aloud from.

“Which finger?”

Merlin raises his right hand, middle finger pointing at Arthur, who gives it a sudden pull, emitting a popping sound.

“Oh.” He blinks, flexes his fingers. “Thanks.” He smiles.

Arthur smiles back, giving a little bit of a laugh as he turns back to the book, beginning to read aloud once more. Then he grabs Merlin’s hand in his own, giving it a quick kiss during a brief verbal pause before placing their now joined hands on his chest.


	155. June 3rd

“We are not using the primary colors for our wedding.”

“And why not?”

“Because we don’t even know what season we’re doing yet. It might clash.” 

“We could do next Summer, since it’s too late to send out invites for this Summer. Or maybe the Fall; either Fall.”

“Or, we can piss off Morgana by running off to elope.”

“My mother would never forgive either of us.”

“You’re right. And Morgana would probably castrate us.”

“Or worse: get Morgause to do it… Actually, no, I think worse would be getting Gwen to do it.”

“… So, no eloping then.”

“No eloping, then.”


	156. June 4th

Merlin and Arthur get absolutely nothing done today ad then spend an indecent amount of time mixing chocolate and coffee ice cream together because they can’t agree on just one.


	157. June 5th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is dedicated to Tafsut as she stays awake in wait for her early morning train! I think you'll enjoy this particular entry. (Or so I hope, fingers crossed!) But warning, it's going to be sad.

11:03  
On the day before the day that Arthur has been dreading arrives, he and Merlin sleep in far later than intended.

11:17  
They are rushing to get ready for brunch, trying not to acknowledge the legitimate fear of Morgana tormenting them if they’re late.

11:46  
It’s very easy to pretend that they aren’t a single minute late to Morgana and Leon’s when they don’t look at any of their clocks or watches… Or Morgana’s mild glare.

12:12  
Morgana tries to discreetly ask Arthur about tomorrow. As he starts to not-so-discreetly shut down, Merlin grabs his hand on the table, rubbing his thumb along the back of his hand, and starts up an intriguing enough conversation with the rest of the table that strays all the attention from Arthur.

12:19  
When Arthur finally collects himself enough and has managed to neither yell at nor confide in Morgana, he squeezes Merlin’s hand in thanks. 

2:23  
They leave, Merlin driving home.

7:48  
Arthur gets a call from his uncle.

11:03  
“I feel like all the men in my family have been terrible men, terrible people, terrible uncles, terrible husbands, terrible fathers. And sometimes I can’t help but think…”

“Arthur.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tafsut, get some sleep later!


	158. June 6th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Future me that might come back to read this:  
> Skip it.

It’s only hours yet from what Arthur still can’t talk about directly.

In the middle of the night, Arthur is crying with his face half buried in his pillow because he just can’t be face-to-face with Merlin right now, even though the dark cover of night would hide his face. However, he does allow Merlin to pull him in tight from behind; encourages it, even. 

“Obviously I would never do anything like that. I could never be like my uncle in that regard, but in others? And like my father?”

He sobs a sob over the mere fact that he’s sobbing at all.

“Gana might have children one day and if I-“ he breaks off, needing to take a breath. “He was always so cruel to me and I never even realized it until it was too late to fix it. And what if I’m like that to them?”

“I won’t let you be,” Merlin reminds him firmly. It seems to be his go-to knee-jerk response to a lot that Arthur has had to say these past few hours. “And neither will Morgana or Leon.”

“But-“

“No buts.”

Arthur pauses, squeezing his eyes tight enough to let a fresh, hot stream of tears fall. His mouth feels too big for his face, stretching over exaggeratedly and hurting his cheeks when he finds more to say.

“I want to have children with you one day, Merlin.”

Merlin squeezing him just a little bit tighter. They’ve talked about this.

“And I want to have children with you one day, Arthur. You know that.”

“What if they hate me?” he harshly whispers before shoving his face harder into his pillow.

“We’ll just have to prepare them beforehand for Neverland with lots of Peter Pan, then,” Merlin tells him matter-of-factly.

Arthur chokes on something that is half a laugh and half a sob.

“Merlin…”

The lack of response leaves them in a quiet that scares Arthur.

“They won’t,” Merlin whispers into his ear. “And even if they thought they did – which they wouldn’t – I’d still love you.”

And that leads to the scariest thought of them all.

Arthur is almost too afraid that if he says it, it will only seal his fate, but he needs to get it out before it suffocates him.

“But what if you don’t?” he asks barely above a breath.

“Then we’ll work at it until I remember why I wanted to be with you in the first place.”

It’s not as satisfying of an answer as Arthur thinks he needs right now, but he’ll take it for all it’s worth.


	159. June 7th

Arthur gets stress hiccups today… Multiple times today. And then he finds a pen shaped like a dog with a little rubber band with a tiny bell on it for a collar. He gives it to Merlin, who spends about twenty minutes cooing over it, which makes Arthur happy to see him happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *shrug*


	160. June 8th

“What are you doing?”

“Writing a book.”

“Why.”

“Because I’m angry.”

“Well, that certainly sounds like you. I guess kick ass, or whatever, honey.”

“Oh, I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, guess what I'm doing. It doesn't involve any sort of development for this story. Because I'm fucking stuck.


	161. June 9th

Fingertips running down the slope of Arthur’s nose and along his cheek, Merlin wonders at the man before him. What did his husband-to-be ever do to deserve to have almost every person he had ever looked up to look down on him when they should have been the ones looked down upon the whole time?


	162. June 10th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the other day I realized that since this is a relationship, that means there has to be things like anniversaries... And today is my birthday, and a number of the birthdays I've already celebrated this past half year have been put in this story under random character names. And since it would be a bit telling (and perhaps a bit vain?) to make Arthur or Merlin's birthday the same as mine, I decided to go with the anniversary instead. So, here we go!

The morning starts off early, just before their alarms normally chime with Merlin’s nose shoved up against Arthur’s cheek. Making a quick turn of his head while Merlin is still mostly asleep, Arthur bites at Merlin’s nose. Merlin snorts, swatting at Arthur’s face.

“Stop that,” Merlin warns, smiling.

Arthur chooses to ignore that in favor of kissing Merlin, who then wrinkles his previously bitten nose.

“You have terrible morning breath.”

Ignoring Merlin once more, Arthur kisses him again.

“I love you, too.”

Merlin scoffs and grumbles at that a bit, mumbling his words. “I love you.” And then he kisses Arthur back. “Even though you smell.”

Pulling back, Arthur pretends to be affronted.

“Is that any way to speak to your husband-to-be on our anniversary?”

“Shut up.” Merlin smiles again, leaning in and somewhat on top of Arthur to continue kissing.

++

They go to a diner down the road for an early morning breakfast date, a rare treat they would both enjoy embracing more often.

++

Dinner is a small affair at home. The main event is building a cake from cookies and whipped cream that they are supposed to refrigerate for four hours, only to break it out within the first hour and a half.

“Merlin!”

“What?! I haven’t had this cake in years, I can’t help it!”

“You are astounding,” Arthur laughs fondly.

“I know,” Merlin says, smug a bit giddy.

Arthur rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling like there’s no other way he’d rather have Merlin, and perhaps there isn’t.


	163. June 11th

Merlin’s lips wrap around his spoon like a present, keeping it snug and secure and in his mouth. Eyes closing, he lets out soft, little humming moans that go straight to Arthur’s heart. The blissful upwards twitches to the corners of Merlin’s mouth just add to Arthur’s fondness and near simper.

Arthur’s face must not give him entire away because when Merlin opens his eyes and releases the spoon from the hold of his mouth, he tells Arthur, “You really just don’t get it. Gelato isn’t anything like ice cream; it is to be savored. Appreciated.”

“Bit like you, then?” Arthur asks and relishes in Merlin’s laughter and rolls of his eyes.

“C’mon,” Merlin nudges a spoonful towards Arthur, “You know how long it takes me to eat this stuff. Give me a hand?”

Arthur smirks, taking less care than Merlin to put the spoon in his mouth, but moving at a slower pace and making a show of using his tongue.

“Flirt all you like, it’s not going to get me to eat any faster.”

When Merlin says he likes to savor his gelato, he isn’t kidding. Once, it took him an entire day to work through one serving. No matter what Arthur does, it never gets Merlin to go any faster.

“Worth a shot.”

“More like, nice try, but you know it’ll never happen.”

“Mmm, you just keep telling yourself that. But believe me, it’ll happen one day.

Merlin snorts. “Right. Of course, dear.”


	164. June 12th

Everyone gathers at Gwen and Lance’s for brunch and they all stay longer than usual because – and Arthur can’t help but roll his eyes – Merlin and Gwen (mostly Merlin) bring out the Narnia movies.


	165. June 13th

On his way home, on a whim, Arthur buys Merlin some flowers to go with the old vase Merlin had texted Arthur earlier in the day that he had found in their storage closet.


	166. June 14th

After Arthur gets his blood drawn today, a bruise bigger than his thumb surfaces under the skin of his elbow crease.

“I thought you started keeping the tape on longer to keep the bruising and bleeding down?” Merlin asks with eyebrows furrowed in worry. “Arthur, this is bloodier than usual.”

“I didn’t really like the man who drew my blood,” Arthur admits. “I think he just wanted to get it over with and get going. The place was empty when I walked in.”

Merlin takes to lightly but firmly pressing around the bruise, closely watching Arthur’s face for any signs of pain.

“And you know my veins are usually better in my other arm.”

“Then why did you use this one?”

“Because it’s not my dominant arm?”

Merlin rolls his eyes before continuing his interrogation. 

“Merlin, it’s fine.”

“Arthur-“

“No, you know it’ll be gone by tomorrow.”

Merlin huffs, “fine,” kissing the skin above the crease of Arthur’s arm.


	167. June 15th

“Shit,” Arthur mutters from inside the shower.

“You alright?” Merlin asks, his voice a bit garbled from the toothpaste and foam in his mouth.

Arthur knows he’s caught out when his, “Yeah,” comes out a bit too breathy. When Merlin tells him that he doesn’t sound all the convincing, he knows he’s right. Holding the bridge with one hand and panting lightly through his mouth, he braces himself for Merlin’s reaction when he hears the shower curtain start to open.

“Oh!”

Merlin disappears somewhere beyond where Arthur can see past the rest of the curtain and then returning momentarily with a hand towel that he then, lovely husband-to-be that he is, shoves in Arthur’s face.

Arthur sputters, “Merlin!” snapping the towel from Merlin’s hands to press gently against his nose and elbowing Merlin out of the way.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know, my nose just started bleeding.”

++

“Shit!” Arthur yell-whispers, off-balanced and trying not to fall.

++

“What happened to your toe?”

“What?”

“It’s bleeding, Arthur.”

Arthur looks down to find that his little toe is, in fact, bleeding. When he looks back up, Merlin is headed towards the bathroom.

“I almost tripped over a fan earlier.”

Merlin returns with a plaster and antibiotic spray. Arthur takes them gratefully.

“I guess a cut explains why it hurts.”

++

“What did you get that scratch from?”

“What?”

Merlin runs one finger along Arthur’s thigh. Arthur looks down and finds a fresh scratch.

“What the hell…”

++

“I think the world is trying to kill me.”

“Well, if the size of your blood work bruise from yesterday is anything to go by. Or maybe you’re just having a bad day,” Merlin suggests, kissing the bruise in the fold of Arthur’s arm.


	168. June 16th

When Arthur gets home late after an issue a work, he is surprised to find Merlin up.

“You should be sleeping,” he chides gently.

Before changing into sleepwear, Arthur gives Merlin a quick peck and then fumbles Merlin to lie down on their bed.

“Couldn’t,” Merlin tells him. “Missed you too much.”

Settling into bed, Arthur pulls Merlin close. Merlin’s eyes droop shut and he sighs.

“Better?” Arthur whispers against Merlin’s forehead.

Merlin hums a positive note of affirmation as he places his head snuggly against Arthur’s neck, sighing contently.


	169. June 17th

Arthur is displeased when he has to come home late from work once again. But then he gets home to find Merlin lying awake and Arthur can’t help giving him a smile when Merlin lifts his arm for Arthur to crawl under, beckoning him forward with a soft whine in the back of his throat. All the tension drains out of him as he strips down to his briefs.


	170. June 18th

In the afternoon, Merlin and Arthur go to Merlin’s mother’s house. After enjoying a simple lunch, Merlin makes his way around the house to help his mother with some renovations she can’t manage on her own. Arthur takes to mowing the front garden before joining them. The afternoon isn’t all too bad, but then night falls.

They’re sitting around a fire pit in the front garden when the mood shifts. At first, they make hot dogs, which turn out just fine. It’s the marshmallows that are an issue because Arthur blows a little too hard on a burning piece that falls onto his finger, burning it so badly that he develops blisters.

It still hurts hours later when they’re in bed at home, about to sleep.

“What is with you this week?” Merlin wonders with worry, thumbing at the blood work bruise that still hasn’t left Arthur’s arm.

“Maybe someone’s cursed me,” Arthur tries to joke but it falls short at Merlin’s look of concern.


	171. June 19th

Today is a quiet affair, starting with an easy going brunch and ending with Merlin and Arthur rearranging their music collections.


	172. June 20th

“Shit, Arthur!” Merlin turns frantically to Arthur. “What should I write about today.”

Arthur doesn’t even hesitate to answer, “Write about how hot I am.”

“I’m actually going to write that now, you realize,” Merlin tells him with only little consideration.

“What? Really? You’re going to write about how hot I am?” Arthur asks, surprised.

“No,” Merlin tells him matter-of-fact, “I’m going to write about how conceited you are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to my sister from inspiration for this one.


	173. June 21st

They almost watch the sunset together, but they get distracted by each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't know what to write, so, Tafsut, this idea goes to you!


	174. June 22nd

“It’s been one hundred and seventy-four – wait, or is it one hundred seventy-four? Do you use the and or not? Oh my fucking god, Arth-“

“Merlin.”

“Point is, it’s been almost half a year and I keep hitting writer’s block!”

A pause.

“Will kisses help?”

“Arthur!” 

“…”

“Maybe.”


	175. June 23rd

Arthur comes home to find Merlin cold but contently sleepy, so he bundles him into bed and joins him, wrapping Merlin in both Arthur himself and their bedclothes. But first, he has to shut down Merlin’s laptop before it over heats and finds some intriguing under garment purchases Merlin’s purchased. Arthur decides to ask Merlin about it later, or perhaps maybe wait for a bit of a surprise.


	176. June 24th

Their last Friday of the month date night involves a great deal of Harry Potter and Arthur watching Merlin draw Arthur’s thighs.


	177. June 25th

“Why are you upside down on the couch?”

“I was hoping it would help me think of something to write.”

“And you’re naked because…?”

“I was warm and hoping it would help.”

“Did it?”

“Eh.”


	178. June 26th

Early in the morning, Merlin and Arthur leave for vacation with the whole brunch gang. They're staying in an old family near-the-beach house that Lancelot's family owns. 

The whole gang arrives just after lunch, excited and a bit peckish. A quick lunch is made of fruit, deli meats, and cheeses. Then they head down the road to the beach.

Merlin has a difficult time putting on sunscreen and worries for his skin, but he takes a nap anyways. When he later wakes, it is to a hissing sound from beside him.

"Your legs are starting to turn a little pink," Arthur worries.

By the time they make it back to the house, Merlin has started to feel the uneven splotches of sunburn scattered over his back and the backs of his legs.

Arthur helps him with the aloe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk. I should write more but my legs hurt and I can't remember how to make this cute when I'm hanging out with my best friend and her family as they watch people be stabbed to death on GOT.


	179. June 27th

After another trip to the beach, one where Merlin does not lay on his stomach once, they head to a "hippie" type storefront. Then they get coffee, and afterwards, they go to the grocer's.

At night, they make s'mores.

"Your ears are pink," Arthur tells him as they ready for bed.

Touching his ears and taking a look in the mirror, Merlin's cheeks start up a blush to rival that of his ears.

"If we go back to the beach tomorrow, I'll make sure to have some sun cream for them."


	180. June 28th

Because of an issue at work, they have to leave tonight, rather than tomorrow morning; as was previously planned.


	181. June 29th

Merlin sleeps in today, seeing as technically it’s still his vacation day off and besides, Morgana isn’t going in, either, even though she’s returned home with Leon. It takes him a while to get out of bed but the need to unpack is just too heavy a thought on his mind, so, up he gets.

Later, feeling privileged to lie around while Arthur is still forced into work, Merlin works on cheesy artichoke and spinach pasta for dinner. When Arthur makes it home just in time for the table to be set, he comes in with an air about him that is just too casual. At first, Merlin thinks it’s because Arthur’s trying to cover up the tiredness, but then, a package lands on the table by Merlin’s elbow. When Merlin looks up from the label to look at Arthur, he finds his partner to be far too interested in a bill or so.

Ah, Merlin thinks.

He turns, plate of pasta in one hand and fork in the other, and leans against the counter.

“I know you know what’s in there,” he tells Arthur.

“In where?” Arthur asks far too quickly and Merlin can see Arthur try not to wince.

“Which one did you like best?” Merlin asks as he takes a bite from his plate, trying to keep his voice as disinterested as he can.

“W-which one?” Arthur sounds generally surprised, causing Merlin to look up in his own surprise.

“Oh. You didn’t…” A small smirk starts to form before he can help it. “So, you didn’t see all of them, then?”

Arthur blinks. Swallows. “I thought there was just-“ he flaps one hand about, “the one.”

“Which one?” Merlin can’t help but to ask. “No, wait, don’t tell me. I want to try to figure it out myself.”

Arthur opens his mouth, obviously prosed to say something else, but Merlin cuts him off with a quick, “anyways, there’s dinner,” and takes a seat, having come to the sudden decision to drag this out for all he can make it worth.

“I-“

“Had a hard day at work and would like to enjoy a nice dinner? I’m sure you would,” Merlin doesn’t quite direct Arthur.

It takes Arthur a few seconds to come back to himself before he follows through with having his own dinner.


	182. June 30th

Merlin goes back to work today and Arthur gets a bit antsy because Merlin still hasn’t opened the package yet.


	183. July 1st

The package has made it into the underwear drawer, unopened, and Arthur spends the first several minutes of his morning just glaring at it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Half the year is gone and this fic is still going! I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who has continued to stick around, and hello to anyone joining!


	184. July 2nd

"Why is there a fireworks show in the park, again?" Merlin asks his crowd of friends at large.

"Because we're trying to get ahead of the U.S.," jokes Gwaine.

"If that's the case, we're a day behind Canada, then."

Gwaine finds that he has no retort to that, but Morgana, as she makes a spot for herself on their blanket does. "You fucked up there, boys."

Merlin snorts at that.

"Are there any waters?" Arthur asks.

"Yep!" 

Merlin leans sideways towards the cooler at the corner of the blanket and that's when Arthur notices it -- the peak of thin fabric over the top of Merlin's tight jeans. Suddenly Arthur's mouth goes dry. He double checked this morning after Merlin's shower to find the package still unopened. But the green whale tail with a keyhole hinting at his crack over top his -- really -- tight jeans tells Arthur that maybe he should have triple checked. 

When Merlin straightens himself, water bottle in hand, Arthur leans in close to grab it and whisper in Merlin's ear, "That was definitely not the thong I saw on your laptop."

Straight faced, Merlin turns to him.

"Well then, that leaves four more for me to guess from."

When the first firework goes off a second later Merlin looks up with a smirk before turning back to push Arthur's legs apart, making room for Merlin to put his back flush against Arthur's front.

The next few hours, Arthur concludes, are going to be torture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone on ffnet, this will be up later! Probably around midnightish.


	185. July 3rd

Despite what Arthur had hoped to have happened when they got home, it was already past midnight and they were exhausted. And then, they woke up late, just before everyone made it over for brunch. With a busy day after that, they finally made it to bed too exhausted, once again. The four remaining purchases, Arthur figured, might have the capability of killing him.


	186. July 4th

Today, Arthur sends Merlin some flowers at work, which is conveniently the pants pattern Merlin has decided to wear today, ironically unbeknownst to Arthur. It's just too bad that they're dogsitting tonight a dog that always finds a way to sleep in their bed with them.

"I'm going to burn that package of yours," Arthur breathily tells him later, half squished under the big dog.

"You wouldn't dare," Merlin assures him.


	187. July 5th

“My motivation,” Merlin waves a hand around, “just keeps going.”

When Merlin pauses, Arthur stays quiet to give Merlin some time to process his thoughts.

“Let’s make potatoes.”

Arthur blinks, thinks that over for a second, looking over the earnestness on Merlin’s face, and then begins to laugh.

“Yeah, okay.”


	188. July 6th

The whole gang goes out for Percival’s birthday, but when Arthur starts to feel terribly ill, Merlin worryingly maneuvers them home.


	189. June 7th

They’re sat up in bed, Merlin’s back facing Arthur’s front. Arthur has his hands in Merlin’s hair, gathering and releasing strands to see how much he can fit into a hair tie.


	190. July 8th

Arthur gets another nosebleed while in the shower and seems to set the tone for the rest of the day. He can’t focus on his work, his eyes and head pound at seemingly random intervals, and apparently he forgets that the gang are supposed to make trips over to the flat tonight. Entirely unsure what to do at this point, he makes an escape to the kitchen, trying to ignore the lurch in his stomach when Merlin finds him.

“Alright?” Merlin asks and Arthur is sure he would be able to feel his worry if he wasn’t feeling so much unpleasantness from himself.

“Just need to-“ he shakes his head, pressing a glass of ice water to his damp forehead, tries to think of an excuse, “Dissociate, I suppose.” Turns out it’s not that much of a lie, anyways.

“Would you like me to go?” Merlin asks, not unkindly.

When he really thinks about it, Arthur finds that he is actually quite opposed to the idea.

Reaching for Merlin’s waist in a loose grip, he asks, “Stay?”

And he does.


	191. July 9th

They haven’t changed the bedding in their room since before the had to dog sit for the night, so Merlin sets it as his personal goal to wash and dry all their bedding, as well as their recently filled laundry basket. The sheets smell wonderful and Merlin takes so much pride in his job well done, that when Arthur tries to lay down for the night, Merlin swats at his and tells him to shower first, despite Arthur’s recent affinity for morning showers.

“You’ll mess up my routine!”

“It’ll be worth it,” Merlin assures him.

“Not if you’re not going to join me,” Arthur mumbles, turning on the hot water, anyways.


	192. July 10th

Arthur is looking through his drawer for a shirt when Merlin calls from the bathroom, “Arthur? Why’s there blood in the shower?”

“Oh, shit,” he whispers, the night coming back to him.

“I may have, uh,” Arthur clears his throat. “I may have had another nosebleed when I had my shower last night.”

There’s a faint garble in response.

“I was going to tell you, but you’d fallen asleep. And I thought I had cleaned all the blood, but I couldn’t really tell without my glasses and-“

The sound of the shower cuts him off and he takes a moment to pause.

“Is it that bad?” he jokes.

“The shower?” Merlin asks, shutting the water off. “Not really. Having two nosebleeds in two days? Probably.”

Arthur winces in response and it pulls at something in his head, causing a sharp pain. He inhales sharply and tries to rub out the throb.

“Yeah, probably,” he agrees quietly to himself.

“What’s wrong?” worryingly Merlin asks, now from just inside the bedroom doorway, but the ache is gone.

“Nothing now.”

“Arth-“

“Let’s just get through the day, see how it goes, alright?”

But the problem is, as the day goes on, the pain continues.


	193. July 11th

After a long day, Arthur falls asleep early with Merlin’s head in his lap, his hand in Merlin’s hair.


	194. July 12th

There’s drama in the Pendragon family that both Arthur and Morgana rage on about at their respective workplaces. While Morgana does tend to rant at all her friends as a whole, Merlin finds that he has to suffer most of her complaints. When he mentions this to her, Morgana tells him to, “Get used it, you’ll legally be part of the family, too, soon enough.”

“That doesn’t help me choose a date for the wedding any quicker.”

“Oh, shush, we all know you and Arthur are going to choose next Fall, anyways.”

“You know what, just because of that I might now have to surprise you by choosing New Years.”

Morgana snorts, pretending to have a sudden interest in her fingernails, “I’d like to see you try to ruin any holiday as well as me.”

“Well,” Merlin considers, thoughtfully. “We could always marry on your birthday.”

Morgana drops her hand, moving into Merlin’s face and looking him dead in the eye.

“I would eat you.”

It’s not the threat Merlin was expecting, but it drives the point home.


	195. June 13th

When he finds Merlin in the same panties he wore to the fireworks show, the bright waistband and open gap stretched just above his sweats, Arthur slowly stalks his way towards Merlin, putting two fingers in the keyhole of the underwear, and giving a light tug. Merlin gasps.

"I knew you'd like these ones."

Arthur presses the front of his body along the back of Merlin's, tugging just a little more and moaning approvingly in Merlin's ear.


	196. July 14th

It’s when he’s stressing over getting nosebleeds in the shower that Arthur gets another nosebleed in the shower.

“You know,” he tells Merlin tersely when he can no longer take the silence between them. “I used to get bloody noses a lot when I was little. And I mean a lot. Like, multiple times per week. And I was- I was little. Preteen little. And you don’t just- you shouldn’t get that stressed and your blood pressure shouldn’t be that high when you’re that- that-“

“Little?”

“Exactly.”

They fall into another silence, Merlin openly and worryingly studying Arthur, who has had the thumb of one hand pressed to his lips and his pointer finger pressed to his not running nose as if he expects that to change some time soon.

“Maybe it’s just the dry air or, or something,” Arthur offers, bringing up his other hand to scratch at one of his brows.

“I think you should see-“”

Arthur cuts Merlin off. “I’m not going to visit him.”

“Your uncle-“

“I don’t-“ Arthur sighs, using the hand on his brow to pinch at the bridge of his nose for a moment before pulling his hand away. “Not yet.”

It takes a painful few seconds for Merlin to respond, one of his hands finding its way to the one of Arthur’s lip, pulling it towards his own lips, instead, to place kisses upon.

“Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've been rereading some of these posts... I can't believe how much of myself I've put into some of these. It's like a love/hate letter to myself and I can't believe some of you are still constant readers. So.... Thank you. For letting me really open up some days, and still wanting to come back the next.


	197. July 15th

“Hey, so I was thinking for dinner tonight-“ Arthur stops, phone to his ear, and just listens. “Where are you? Why’s it so loud?”

“Oh, I’m at the beach,” Merlin tells him, as if this is a typical response before it’s even noon on a Friday when they both have work.

Arthur blinks, takes a moment to let that process.

“Do I want to know why?”

“Work. Morgana and Gwen are here, too. And Gwaine is… Well, god only knows where he ever is.”

“I thought he was working over here this week?” he asks, even more confused now. No one is exactly sure on the specifics, but Gwaine, the near freeloader, managed to get a job from both Merlin and Arthur.

“Uh, yeah, but not today. He cleaned this with Leon. At least he said- Am I going to have to drown him? Did he not clear-“

“I’m sure Gwaine cleared something with someone.”

Merlin snorts. “Yeah, sure.”

There’s a pause, but it’s not uncomfortable.

“So, what were you calling-“

“What are you doing at-“

They both talk over one another before cutting off with a few laughs.

Merlin offers, “You first.

“I was just going to ask what you were doing at the beach?”

“Oh,” Merlin stops, seems to consider. “I’m not exactly sure? Gwen asked, so I said sure. Mostly I’ve just sat around sweating and watching other people’s babies. I mean, honestly, Arthur, you should see. Some of these babies are the cutest damn things.

“This is going to be us one day, Arthur. Dressing itty bitty babies in cute little swimming costumes and water booties and obnoxiously oversized hats and bring them to the beach and-“

And Arthur can see it all: Merlin’s overuse of sunscreen and overfilling cooler of water bottles and milk bottles, Arthur’s over purchasing of baby tents and umbrellas and swim floaties and sand toys that will act as spoons for their babies to eat sand off of when Merlin and Arthur turn their backs for just a single second.

“Oh, it’s so precious,” Merlin cooes a sigh over the phone that Arthur almost mimics because he feels it, too. Oh, he feels it, too.


	198. July 16th

They’re both a bit tired and desiring to stay home and together today, so Merlin and Arthur spend their day in their flat watching old movies and listening to old music.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, it's late and I'm tired.


	199. July 17th

Today is Gwaine and Percival’s turn to host brunch, which means a theme. For today’s theme, they decide to have a whole day long event, where all their meals are eaten in reverse. Breakfast consists of dinner, lunch consists of an odd mix of lunch and brunch, and dinner consists of breakfast. Merlin and Arthur have dibs on making pancakes.


	200. July 18th

Arthur comes home to Merlin making brownies, making the night look like it will turn out to be a good one. But then Arthur gets another nosebleed and this time he isn’t in the shower and he isn’t bleeding out of the usual nostril. And then, the bleeding cuts off almost immediately. For some reason, this one raises more concern than the others.


	201. July 19th

Merlin wakes early this morning to go to a doctor’s appointment that is apparently actually tomorrow. So, he heads back home and takes some meds to calm his nerves before he silently curls up behind Arthur for the extra near hour left before Arthur’s alarm is meant to go off.

“You’re back early,” Arthur inquires, more awake than Merlin hoped he would be.

“Wrong day, don’t want to talk about it.”

“Alright.”

And that’s that.

In the night, Merlin still feels off center, so Arthur pulls him into bed to watch Peter Pan because Arthur has figured out that honestly any of the movies have the magic to make Merlin forget himself for a while almost every time. When Merlin curls up just a bit tighter to Arthur and quietly asks about his day during a bit of a lull in the movie, the blond knows he has made the right call.


	202. July 20h

Merlin’s doctor appointment is uneventful while Arthur’s drives him up the wall.

“He numbed my nose and throat so he could shove a long telescope down it, then told me that nothing was wrong-“

“Nothing?”

“He said it was probably the humidity and to rub the inside of my nose with ky jelly. And to come back in three months, in case he’s wrong – which he actually said – and my nose continues to bleed – fucking three bloody months later – so he can cauterize my nose. I’m done, honestly. How was your appointment?”

“Told me things I already knew, of course.”

They both roll their eyes.

Later, to distract themselves, and because they find a whole loaf of bread about to go stale that they know they can’t finish, they make bread pudding. So, all-in-all, it’s not too bad of a day.


	203. July 21st

Merlin rereads all of the previous two hundred and three entries that he had written throughout this year, cringing over all the fights and medication changes, wincing at all the stress and tears. But, he also saves a few entries to reread to Arthur later at night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I might go back and reread every entry at the end of the year, and put some little bits of commentary in the notes.


	204. July 22nd

“So, I was thinking…” Arthur trails off, unsure and a bit anxious.

They’re laid out on their bed, where most of their serious conversations seem to take place. For example, it is also where Merlin had taken the big, final step of making their engagement official, of giving the rings they had both hidden for so long some proper use. With that thought, and Merlin’s eyes trained patiently on him, Arthur continues.

“I got a call from Elena and Mithian today. About their wedding.” Merlin nods, letting Arthur take his time to organize his thoughts, as he if hasn’t been rearranging them all day. “They’ve decided on the Spring.”

“That’s wonderful,” is what Merlin says with a smile, but that’s all he says because he’s clever and as always, he can tell that there’s more that Arthur has to say.

“And.” Arthur clears his throat, needing to break eye contact for only a few seconds to gather some courage. “And. We already have a few color schemes picked out. Your mother has already insisted she queue the time at her bakery to make our cake. I know Morgana and Gwen have already not quite tricked you into speaking with George a number of times about planning.”

Arthur pauses, takes a breath before gulping.

“And it took us long enough to even get around to the rings. I don’t know about you, Merlin,” he lowers his voice, taking Merlin’s hand and he leans in closer and tries to put as much feeling into his words as he can, “but I don’t want to go through that whole waiting game again just trying to set a day. So, I was thinking…”

“Yes.”

Arthur blinks.

“You don’t even know what I was going to say,” he wonders at Merlin.

“Then tell me.”

Taking a deep breath, Arthur does. “We’ve waiting long enough, from last year into this year. I don’t want us to wait ourselves into the next. So, I was thinking that we marry – perhaps we marry on New Year’s Eve?” The last for words come out a bit rushed, but so does Merlin’s immediate reply.

“Yes.”

“Really?” Arthur breaths.

“Well, I don’t understand your family’s desire to make holidays about yourselves, but-“

Cupping Merlin’s cheeks in his hands, Arthur quickly swoops in to cut him off with a kiss. And then another. And another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After rereading everything I've written so far, I've decided to move things along and finally start filling in some plot holes.


	205. July 23rd

Tonight, they dogsit so many dogs that when they make it to bed, there is no room for them.

"I don't-" Arthur covers his mouth, contemplating what to say to the dogs while also being very much aware that he is talking to the dogs. "I don't know where you expect us to cuddle you if that's what you're- Oh! No! No, no, no, not the pillow! Not the- FUCK."

Merlin enters, powerwalking from the bathroom, toothbrush still in his mouth and foam dribbling past his lips.

"Whuh?" He pulls the toothbrush out and tries again, "What? What's the matter?"

"She-" Arthur cuts himself off, waving a hand at-

"Oh! That's so cute!"

"You wouldn't be saying that if it was your pillows!"

"Oh shush," Merlin gently chides, grabbing for his phone to take a picture of the smallest dog of the bunch curled up atop Arthur's pillows. Then, because he wants to and because he's a bit of an arse, he takes a picture of Arthur's displeased face.

Arthur scrunches his nose at Merlin, who snaps another picture.


	206. July 24th

Merlin falls asleep during some downtime of their brunch day and Arthur has to carry him to the car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse for this other than being very tired, friends. Watching over 10 dogs and singlehandedly cleaning an entire house is tiring, friends. And I need a shower. Or an ice bath.


	207. July 25th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's chapter is inspired by a fic I can't remember the title of, where the narrative is told like a recipe. And for today's recipe, we will be using [this](http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/easy-peach-cobbler-recipe.html) for peach cobbler. Enjoy! (:

Today they make peach cobbler. 

First, Arthur preheats the oven to 375 degrees while Merlin finds a pan about the length of his forearm.

Next, he melts a stick of butter in the microwave. After the butter has melted, he takes the bowl and pours its contents into the pan he had prepared.

While Merlin is busy, Arthur grabs a bigger bowl to mix sugar, baking powder, salt, flour, and milk.

After buttering the pan, Merlin takes to thinly cutting up the six bruising peaches from their fruit bowl.

When Arthur finishes mixing up his bowl, he pours the contents on top of the butter in the pan then grabs the sugar bowl, a measuring cup, and a sauce pan that he places on the stove. Taking the measuring cup and sugar, he adds a whole cup to the pan. After that, he cuts up a lemon to squeeze some juice onto the sugar. And then he waits for Merlin to finish with the peaches.

Finally finished pitting and cutting the peaches, Merlin tosses them on top of the lemon and sugar Arthur has just started to heat up on the stove. Grabbing a wooden spoon, he starts to mix the contents of the pan for a few minutes until it all bubbles. As he’s mixing, the oven beeps, alerting Merlin and Arthur that it’s ready to be used. Arthur hooks his chin over Merlin’s shoulder to watch him work.

Once the pan has developed bubbles, Merlin turns off the heat, gently moves Arthur away from him, and goes to layer the peach mixture into the pan.

At last, they get the whole thing into the oven, setting a timer for forty minutes. 

The next fifteen minutes are spent cleaning and then they get to curl up on the couch, the sweet scent of peaches with a hint of lemon filling the apartment.


	208. July 26th

It’s been a long day for Merlin, from restless sleep to an early morning onto yet another doctor’s appointment and then a busy workday. So, when night falls, he gathers Arthur into their bed, climbing on top of him. After adjusting the covers, he curls himself entire around Arthur and burying his face in Arthur’s neck. When Arthur lifts his hands to warp around Merlin and rub broad strokes over his back, Merlin lets out a tired, contended sigh, and lets himself rest.


	209. July 27th

With Arthur having to stay late at work, and Merlin not wanting to be alone for too long after spending the last few days watching horror shows for one of the handful of columns he’s been working on, Arthur decides to call Merlin on Facetime.

“I have to worn you, I’ll probably just be silently working and might even forget you’re here from time to time,” he warns, although he doubts that last part a bit. 

It wasn’t too common that they would call each other when separated, minding their own business with each other’s breathing in he background. It was a comfort thing in more ways than one. But they didn’t do it often. Turns out, as chatty as they can be generally, sometimes when they’re not there together, all they really want is to know that the other person is on the other end of the line, whether that means keeping a running conversation or just stopping whatever it is that they’re doing that’s keeping them apart every couple of minutes to listen to the other person breathe for a few seconds. 

In fact, most of their long distance phone calls and work phone calls to one another are just endless hours of mutual, companionable silence. Tonight isn’t much different.


	210. July 28th

Because they have both finished their individual leisurely reads, Merlin and Arthur decide that it is time to read another book together. Since Arthur had picked their last shared book, it is Merlin's turn. After careful consideration, he decides on a fairytale.

"Are we children, Merlin?"

"Excuse you, these are supposed to be like the original fucked up Grimms Brothers shit."

Arthur lifts an eyebrow. "After a week of watching horror -- which you hate -- you're going to now read horror?"

Scoffing, Merlin rolls his eyes. "Fine, I'll pick something else."

"No, come on." Arthur grabs for Merlin as he turns to leave. "Let's read it."

Merlin gives Arthur a measured look, eyes narrowing to slits for moments on end, before he huffs a sigh and makes himself comfortable in bed.


	211. July 29th

For date night, they had planned to have a picnic dinner on the beach. However, because of the rain, they have to change their plans a bit. They still both manage to leave their respective workplaces early enough to make it home and pack before the roads get too busy. Luckily, it is a smooth ride and they make it to the beach with enough time before dark. With it still raining, they have to enjoy their meal from turned back seats of the car, but it still makes for a pleasant night.


	212. July 30th

“Arthur? Why’re there bloody tissues in the loo bin?”

“Oh, I forgot about that.” Arthur scratches the nape of his neck, clearing his throat. “It was another bloody nose.”

“Arthur!”

He sighs. “There’s no chance of getting you to come back to bed for the next few hours now, is there?”


	213. July 31st

After brunch, they clean the house and then celebrate with ice cream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um. It's been a busy day. I hope this posted in time despite minor complications. If not, it should have posted on ffnet on time, so I still count it!


	214. August 1st

When Arthur's heart swells and keens at the video that Morgana sends him of Merlin curling a puppy to his chest, he reconsiders maybe adopting one somewhere down the line.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the following month, I will be preparing to go back to school and taking care of 10 puppies plus all our other dogs. So, I have no idea how long or short my chapters could go from here..


	215. August 2nd

When blowing his itching nose, Arthur gets another nosebleed. To combat it, Merlin rolls up a tissue and shoves it up Arthur’s nostril.

“Merlin.”

“Just breathe.”

“Through my nose, yes, I’ve done this before but…”

Merlin stares openly at him, one eyebrow slowly raising and causing Arthur to sigh.

“Fine. C’mon, you said you wanted to watch my show with me, even though it’s almost the end,” Arthur says the last bit pointedly.

Rolling his eyes, Merlin scoffs, “Well, you’re very excited about it. And if I can guess the killer after only watching one episode while it’s taken you most of the season to figure out, then it makes the experience even better for me.

Arthur snorts, then cough, remembering his uncomfortable and unfortunate situation. Noticing, Merlin frowns, grabbing with one hand for the tissue box and then for Arthur with the other, immediately beginning to fuss with the instinct to coddle.


	216. August 3rd

“So, do you have anywhere picked out for the wedding yet?”

“Doesn’t it take a while to reserve most places?”

“If Morgana can do it in three and a half months, I think anyone with the right resources and money could do it.”

“Actually, there’s this one place. It belonged to Merlin’s great-great grandfather or something, but someone’s mother gave it over to the public as an art tour space with the agreement that the family can reserve the space themselves anytime they’d like. Apparently it’s like a half built small castle on its own beach and supposedly beautiful.”


	217. August 4th

Arthur receives a letter in the mail from his uncle today, which he reads, and then asks Merlin if he would like to have s’mores over a fire pit this weekend where he plans to use the letter as kindling.


	218. August 5th

Merlin drags Arthur to go see the puppies today, but Arthur is still a bit hesitant to consider a pet for right now. But he knows the look on Merlin’s face will wear him down for one day.


	219. August 6th

In the early hours of morning, the hours many still consider to count as nighttime, Arthur has a tough time of it. With a great deal of control, he manages not to stagger his breathing, but it’s still not coming out right. When his lower lip starts to quiver, he’s thankful that at least he’s managed to keep silent enough so as to not wake Merlin. However, Merlin does wake as Arthur turns his face, getting wetter and wetter at an increasingly alarming pace, into his pillow too fast and too close to Merlin, jostling enough into slow wakefulness.

Merlin mumbles a questioning sound and Arthur hopes his lack of response will trick Merlin back into sleep, but of course, that just isn’t meant to be.

“Arthur?” Merlin asks quietly, as if unsure whether or not Arthur is even awake, or maybe if he even wants to talk.

And it’s not that Arthur doesn’t want to talk to Merlin, it’s that he doesn’t want to talk at all, but he doesn’t want to hide from Merlin now that he’s up, anyways. So, staying silent, he turns his head from his pillow to find himself face-to-face with Merlin.

“Oh, Arthur,” Merlin says in what Arthur can only describe as a gentle hiss. It causes a tear to run from the corner of one eye, over his nose, and into the corner of his other eye.

“What is it?”

But Arthur still doesn’t want to talk, so he just closes his eyes and shuffles closer to Merlin so he can press his face against his neck and breathe in the comforting smells of Merlin’s soap. Catching on to his need of comfort, Merlin pulls Arthur in closer, places absent kisses to any places he can reach on his face and giving the occasional mumble of positivity or sweet sounding hum.

Hours later, after Arthur has overslept and recovered his voice, he finds that he still isn’t ready to talk about it. Instead, he spends the day quietly curled up to Merlin, thinking maybe he’ll talk about it tomorrow.


	220. August 7th

“Do you want to talk about it now?” Merlin asks when a commercial between the Olympic Games plays on the telly.

Sighing, Arthur shuffles on the bed, rearranging his position against the pillows. 

“He’s just going to keep sending lettings and emails and calling until I visit him.” He pauses. “I can’t see him, Merlin. I refuse.”

“So, you can’t? Or you won’t?”

Arthur scoffs, turning his face away from Merlin. Only a second later he’s feeling guilty, not wanting to push Merlin away like this, so he turns back, but he closes his eyes and puts his head on Merlin’s shoulder so he doesn’t have to face him head on.

“What else is it?” Merlin eventually asks when it becomes evident that Arthur has nothing more to say.

It shocks Arthur, but if Merlin notices, he doesn’t say.

Arthur is shocked again when he says, “I’m afraid of letting that anger get to me,” and it apparently shocks Merlin, too.

The commercials end and the reporters welcome viewers back. They listen to the reporters give their spiel for a while, Merlin not saying anything. Until he does.

“I wouldn’t let it.”

But Arthur doesn’t know what to say to that, so he just moves himself in closer.


	221. August 8th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might seem very out of left field, especially since I've been so evasive on the subject, but...

Only minutes after Arthur gets home, he finds himself leaning against a wall with Merlin close in his space and undoing Arthur’s tie. Instead of letting the ends of the tie hang from Arthur’s neck when Merlin is done, he grabs both ends in one hand and leads Arthur to the couch, where he asks him to sit. Confused, Arthur obliges, nonetheless. As he’s placed Arthur against one of the arms of the couch, Arthur is half thinking that Merlin is going to make a seat for himself on Arthur’s lap. What he doesn’t expect is for Merlin to sit next to him hip to hip until he rearranges Arthur, so that Arthur is the one to spread himself across Merlin’s lap.

Confused, he asks, “What is with you today, Merlin?”

When he has finally arranged Arthur to his liking with one arm around his back and the other holding both of Arthur’s hands over his thighs, Merlin gives a satisfied little huff and then turns his head to face Arthur.

“It’s more about what’s with you.”

Merlin’s hand tightens over Arthur’s and he realizes he must have flexed his fingers a little too quickly, like a flinch, but a moment later Merlin’s hand settles.

Before Arthur can so much as think to deny understanding, Merlin tells him, “I want to talk about it, Arthur.” And before Arthur can so much as sigh, Merlin continues, “But if you really don’t want to, we won’t.” Which is the worst thing, but also the best thing about the situation because being confronted about stress is stressful and being giving an option to confront said stress is also stressful.

They have talked over the years about trying to share burdens, but Arthur finds this one difficult to even weigh the exact burden of. Taking in Merlin’s earnestness, his steady hold on Arthur as the silence drags on, Arthur thinks that maybe he can give it a try – the sharing – even if he doesn’t exactly know how much he truly has to share.

Putting his head into the crook of Merlin’s neck, one of the places that makes Arthur feel the safest and calmest, he takes a few breaths as he tries to gather his thoughts.

“He’s started to get into fights at the camp. It could mean him staying longer than he intended. Well,” he clears his throat, wants to scratch at his head, but not as much as he wants to keep his hands in Merlin’s. “I mean, he honestly thought people were going to keep him from going to jail; thought I, especially, was going to keep him from going. 

“But, I guess, he figured out pretty quickly once he got to the camp, that if he plays it nice, he might get out early. And then, he thought I might pull a few things, fake a few emotions in a few letters, and get him a bloody pass. Except I’ve been dodging his calls and emails, and even the letter, and I think he’s started to realize that he’s going to be stuck there without resources and without any leverage.”

He pauses here because it’s the first time he’s said most of these words without being sarcastic and that’s just – it’s insane that he has to say these words, deal with this as a serious thing actually happening in his life.

Merlin remains silent, letting Arthur get out all that he needs to; all that he can.

“It’s like he figures that if he can’t get out early, he might as well make the worst of it. Or like he thinks that the more he makes his displeasure known, the quicker they’ll let him out. Except they won’t be letting him out into the real world, they’ll just send him somewhere worse. And then I’ll have to visit because it’s said it normalizes them to have regular connections and interactions.”

Again, he takes a pause.

“I know it’s not my fault,” Arthur goes on quietly. “I know he tries to blame me, but I went through my notes and the calendars and I know the timeline of his scandal doesn’t line up in any way for him to blame it on needing to help and provide for me. But maybe if I had visited, or actually emailed back more than once every few weeks… There have been a few moments I hoped he would get into a bad enough fight that…”

Licking his lips, he stops once more. When Merlin starts to rub at Arthur’s side, Arthur closes his eyes and decides it’s time to stop.

“I don’t want to do this right now.”

“Okay.”

“I appreciate you trying.”

“It’s okay, Arthur.”

“I just need to stop right now.”

“That’s fine.”

The rubbing at his side continues until he accidentally falls into a nap.


	222. August 9th

“You know, Merlin, for someone who hates horror, you sure like murder mysteries.”

“I’m trying to learn all the signs so I can see it coming the day your sister finally gets fed up with me at work.”


	223. August 10th

It’s not the best day for Arthur. Starting with sleep exhaustion then moving onto bringing his car for an oil change before walking a bit of the way to work. And after work, he has to walk back. To play on his darkening mood, just as he reaches the building, it starts to rain, but luckily the spray doesn’t hit him too hard. 

When he gets home, he breaks into the “emergency“ chocolate stash.

“Why are you only eating the brown candies?” Merlin asks when he finds Arthur curled up against one arm of the couch with a bowl of colorful chocolate in his lap.

Picking the bowl up as he spreads his legs to make room for Merlin to fit himself in between, Arthur tells him, “I wasn’t sure which color you’d feel like today.

“Hmm,” Merlin quietly muses to himself as he settles comfortably against Arthur. “Yellow.”

“I’ll take the green, then.”

“I meant yellow for you,” Merlin informs him seriously.

“Right. Of course,” says Arthur airily, but he still opens his mouth readily when Merlin brings a yellow candy up to Arthur’s face.


	224. August 11th

When a short storm threatens the power going out, Merlin and Arthur curl up together watching old videos from their phones that they have stashed on their fully charged laptops.


	225. August 12th

“You know what I just realized?” Arthur asks, throwing a piece of kettle corn for Merlin to catch with his mouth.

“What did you just realize?” after catching the piece, Merlin asks.

“We forgot to official ask Morgana and Will to be the maids of honor.”

This time, Merlin throws a piece of kettle corn, but it’s not for Arthur to catch.

“Don’t you dare say that to Will, Freya will never let him live it down and then he’ll ever let me be best man when he thinks he and Freya have been together long enough.” 

It sounds crazy to say, but Will and Freya had spent a long time dancing around each other before finally getting together just last year. And if the waiting to propose is anything like waiting to get together, Will is going to be the type to take his time.

Arthur throws another piece for Merlin.

“Still. I didn’t ask Morgana, I just assumed.” He pauses, scrunching up his face and tilting her head. “Actually she straight up proclaimed it, but all the same, I never officially asked.”

Actually throwing a piece for Arthur to catch this time, Merlin rolls his eyes.

“Morgana already called maid of honor the day we started dating.”

Arthur gets hit in the face when he stops to try to remember back to Merlin’s words, distracting him from this little game.

“You remember that?” he asks.

Rolling his eyes again, merlin pops a piece of kettle corn into his own mouth.

“Course I do,” he admits a bit begrudgingly, but his blush and adverted eyes belie his tone.

“That was years ago.”

Blush growing and traveling lower, Merlin fills his mouth some more, mumbling around the mouthful, “Yeah, well. I was waiting for you. Wasn’t going to forget it all just because some time had gone by.”


	226. August 13th

Sixteen minutes past eleven at night, Merlin squints at the blinking clock on the cable box, feeling like he’s missed something. And then it hits him.

“Fuck!”

“What? What is it?” Arthur panics as Merlin jumps out of bed.

“I almost forgot to write today!"


	227. August 14th

After brunch, they visit the puppies, again… With everyone from brunch in tow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I stayed up until 5 am just reading and then spent the day taking care of the puppies and my sisters so writing is a no right now.


	228. August 15th

It's a bad day for Merlin, despite all of Arthur's best efforts, the night is even worse.


	229. August 16th

“I’m just saying. A gun that size cannot have that many bullets. It’s just lazy, convenient writing. It pissing me off.”

Merlin, once again, was having a bad day. After very few hours of sleep, he had to deal with a few hours of neurological testing for all his headache nonsense. And then, to remind him of what nonsense it is, he developed a headache that has stuck with him for many hours. But at least, Arthur figures, at least Merlin is making the telly take the brunt of his frustrations.

“You don’t know anything about guns, Merlin.”

“No, but I know a gun the size of my bloody hand isn’t going to be that stocked up on so many fucking bullets without magic or, as I said, Lazy. Bloody. Writing. And don’t even get me started on how convenient the lack of lighting is to hide the true size of the fucking thing. It’s small! There’s no way it can carry that much! And her damned arm is all torn up! If it was weighed down with bullets, you’d see her struggle! It’s fucking ridiculous. Change the channel, I hate this.”


	230. August 17th

When Merlin finds himself feeling a little odd and quietly withdrawn today, Arthur suggests they just curl up for a while because he knows that this isn't something that Merlin can just talk himself out of right now.


	231. August 18th

In the middle of the night, Arthur wakes to the sound of gagging and then, a few moments later, the flushing of a toilet followed by the rushing water of a sink, the brushing of teeth, someone spitting, and finally a handful of silence before padding footsteps fill the room. It is too dark to see much, but the moonlight helps outline Merlin’s figure as he shuffles into the bedroom.

“Alright?”

A response comes in the form of a low hum and the pillow beside his head going missing.

“What-“

“Gonna sleep in the living room. ‘m sick. Dunno if I worried myself into it, or if it just happened. Don’t want you to catch it,” Merlin explains in a gruff voice.

It is true that Merlin has both been feeling unwell and he has been going through some stressful past few days.

“You should take the bed. I’ll take the couch.”

Merlin gives a disagreeing noise.

“You have work.”

“So, we’ll both sleep here.”

“Arthur.” Merlin sounded more awake now, but still gruff. 

“We’ll just keep to our sides.”

When Merlin huffs, Arthur thinks he’s won, but then Merlin’s figure begins to retreat. Reaching out a hand, Arthur catches Merlin’s wrist.

“Arthur-“

“No, c’mon. I’ll get you a sports drink and a bowl. It’ll be easier to clean the bedding and floor in here than the couch, floor, and whatever else you could manage to fall against in the dark. Take for example, the coffee table you’ve tripped over just as many times in the light as in the dark.”

“Arthur-“

“And it would make me feel better knowing I’ll be right here if you need me.”

It takes a while, but eventually Merlin curls back up in bed, right along the edge. And after a night of caring for his partner, Arthur wakes with his work alarm, ready to call Merlin out for the day before he gets ready to go in himself. Still a little tired from the early awakenings, he spends as many minutes as he can before he definitely has to get up and shower, keeping one hand on Merlin’s slowly rising and falling chest, right over his steadily beating heart, and the other carding through the dark hair falling over his clammy forehead.


	232. August 19th

With Merlin feeling better today (see: alive and able to keep everything down), he takes to precautiously curling as close to Arthur as he can make himself get. When Arthur pulls him in closer, Merlin smooshes his face against Arthur's chest and away from his face, just in case. But he still breathes out a sigh of relief.


	233. August 20th

“What about puce?”

“I can’t tell if you’re being serious right now or not. Our wedding will not be-“ Merlin pauses, thinking for a second, then continues softly, considering, “Maybe in the flowers.”

“We still need to decide on the flowers,” Arthur reminds him gently, drinking in every look that crosses over Merlin’s face as he thinks.

“Yeah. Color scheme first, but I think we could fit puce colored flowers in.”

“I still say we need to figure out if we’re doing red, blue, or yellow, and then go from there.”

“Or maybe mum can fit puce into the cake.”

“Merlin!” Arthur laughs.

Merlin sighs. “Red would symbolize Pendragon. Yellow- well, gold- would symbolize Emrys. So, I think…” He bites the inside of his cheek to keep from biting at a fingernail because they’ve finally starting growing out how Merlin prefers them from the stubs Merlin had bitten them down to two weeks ago. “I think, blue. I’m not saying we have to match it to our eyes, like Gwen thinks we should,” he goes on hurriedly when Arthur stays silent, “But I feel like the color sort of connects us because it doesn’t represent either of us, but at the same time it does, because our eyes. And what not. So, in a way, it sort of brings us together. So, it’s not Pendragon or Emrys, but… But, sort of both? And it goes with the whole winter and water things?” 

When Arthur still doesn’t respond, Merlin shuffles the scattering of color palettes on their kitchen table, looking for the stack he had assembled on not quite a whim earlier on while Arthur was distracted.

“We could…” Biting his lip, Merlin hands him the pile. “I mean if it’s too much or not enough, we could add, like- I saw you favoring the peach colors earlier. We could maybe add those in, too? With the darker color here-“ Merlin pulls a particular card from the stack. “It would match. Probably really well? Or! Or, even the puce!”

Watching Arthur look over the colors, Merlin begins to worry his lower lip as his partner stays quiet. 

Eventually, Arthur looks up and very gently, eyes bright and suspiciously shining, says, “We’re getting married.”

Merlin nearly bites through his lip.


	234. August 21st

It has been raining a lot lately, as happens at the end of Summer. Tonight isn't much different, but Merlin and Arthur enjoyed it just as much as they have done every other night.


	235. August 22nd

With the night being colder than usual, Arthur and Merlin make use of their open windows so they can turn their fan off, making it much more quiet in their room than usual. It’s a nice contrast to the past few weeks of whirring. Making use of the peace, they spend their time waiting to fall asleep whispering into the dark.


	236. August 23rd

“Do you remember when we first started dating, before we moved in together? When we talked about wanting a house and a family one day?”

“We haven’t had that talk in a while.”

“I know.”

“Do you… I still…”

“I still want it, too.”


	237. August 24th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And to think.. All day I had planned to just write smut.
> 
> Whoops.

“Do you remember our five year plan?” Merlin asks as he intertwines his fingers with Arthur’s.

Arthur groans faintly, lifting his hips to encourage Merlin to move within him. “You really want to talk about this right now?” he pants.

Merlin shifts forward the tiniest bit, but it still causes Arthur to throw his head back and to the side with a shuddering exhale and a clench to Merlin’s hands.

“Yeah,” Merlin tells him when Arthur loosens his hold.

Taking a moment to calm himself, Arthur closes his eyes and breathes. Once his heart rate slows enough so he can hear clearly without the pounding of his blood in his ears, he looks back to Merlin and gives him a nod. With a nod of his own, Merlin pulls back his hips, lowering his chest closer to Arthur’s. Then he thrusts back in.

Together they breathe out as they build up a slow rhythm.

“I can’t believe we forgot about the plan,” Arthur says quietly.

“Well, it took us a while to get engaged.”

“Mmm.” It comes out one part agreement, one part a soft moan when Merlin changes the angle of his thrusts.

“I know you said you still… But do you-“ Merlin has to take a few breaths and it’s only mostly because of the exertion. Or so he tells himself.

“I thought we agreed not to make the official decisions until we- until we were engaged. That’s the point of the five year plan. To create a plan for the five following years thereafter.”

Laughing breathily, Merlin admits with an ever-growing flush on his cheeks and down his chest, “I still can’t believe we’re engaged.”

Arthur starts to laugh a little, as well. And then the laughing grows, then changes, turning into airy half giggles, half chuckles that shock Merlin’s movements into stuttering. And then he’s giggle-chuckling, too.

Closing his eyes, he presses his forehead against Arthur’s, waiting for both their giggle-chuckles to turn to shared pants of breath. Eventually, Arthur tilts his chin up, but Merlin only presses their lips together once before pulling back enough to look him in the eyes, his rhythm never faltering.

“We said we’d have it figured out in five years,” Merlin reminds him. “The decision of a house or, or not.”

“I want a house with you,” Arthur whispers, rubbing his thumbs along the backs of Merlin’s hands. “And a garden full of flowers.” He gasps when Merlin can’t help a hard thrust against Arthur. “So many flowers. I know you want that garden your mother always told you about your father promising her.”

The sudden tilt of his head has the tip of Merlin’s nose rubbing fondly against the tip of Arthur’s. 

Merlin closes his eyes and Arthur attempts to count the lashes.

“I want that,” Merlin whispers a bit watery.

Arthur lifts a leg to wrap around Merlin’s waist so he can pull him closer, causing Merlin to open his eyes.

“I think five years is too long a wait, though. Maybe,” he pauses to lick his own lips then Arthur’s before he kisses him once more. “Maybe two. At the most.”

“At the most,” Arthur agrees, silently thinking to himself that one year is more than enough. “But.” He takes a breath. “But I think by the end of five.” Lifting one finger from their locked hands, he strokes wherever he can reach on Merlin’s face before continuing quietly. “I think by the end of five, I want a kid. Or an official plan.”

Merlin, still keeping up the pace of his thrusts, leans in furthermore to kiss anywhere he can reach on Arthur’s face.

With a bit of a laugh, he admits even quieter, “I was thinking by the end of five years, we’d have started a plan for our second.”

Arthur gives a brief laugh at that, too, but it’s watery like the corners of his eyes suddenly are.

“I want that,” he repeats Merlin’s earlier sentiment.

“Yeah?” Merlin whispers against Arthur’s lips.

“Yeah,” Arthur whispers into Merlin’s mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about your emotions.


	238. August 25th

When Arthur asks to borrow Merlin’s laptop for a moment, he finds more, erm, interesting purchases. The only significant difference in this purchase from the last time Merlin bought something, erm, interesting, is, well.

“These aren’t your size.” It comes out more of a statement than a question.

“Mm?” Merlin shifts over to look at the laptop Arthur has faced towards him. “Oh! Yeah! No, it’s your size.”

As casual as he had leaned in, Merlin leans out, going back to checking the messages on his phone as if nothing had just happened.


	239. August 26th

For the last Friday night of the month, Merlin and Arthur take a walk to one of their favorite restaurants. On the way home, they take the long way including a detour into a twenty-four hour store so a somewhat tipsy Arthur can buy Merlin tacky drugstore flowers. Then, back at home, with the addition of some more alcohol, they make a sundae bar out of their kitchen.


	240. August 27th

“If Morgana can get engaged on Halloween and married on Valentine’s Day, I think New Year's Eve shouldn’t be all that bad for you two. I mean, you already have a venue that will cater, your mother doing the cake, and those invitations were sent out surprisingly fast. Not to mention that you have George helping you.”

“I don’t talk to George much. I mostly let him do whatever he wants and consult with Merlin.”

“Are you telling me that I’m planning our wedding with George?”

“No. I’m just letting him do all the boring bits.”

“Where are you going to Honeymoon?”

“Italy.”

“Switzerland.”

“Mm. And this is why you can’t rely on George for everything. Pass the jam, would you?”


	241. August 28th

“- and I’m starting to have the first panic attack in weeks, so I don’t care what he’s doing, just put him on!”

Faintly in the background, Merlin hears, “You need to talk to him.” And then the call drops.

Merlin shoves his face into the steering wheel.

++

“I can’t believe you didn’t pick up!”

“I’m sorry, Merlin, I didn’t think-“

“No, you didn’t.”

“Merlin-“

“Whatever, Arthur.”

++

After a rough day of getting lost, nearly getting into multiple car accidents, and, of course, having a panic attack, Merlin ignores Arthur and isolates himself away in the bedroom. And when Arthur finally comes in and sits on the bed beside Merlin, Merlin stretches forward, ready to get up and go when he just gives up. He’s been sat too long, made too much of an indent into the bed and he just doesn’t have the energy to pull himself out of it. And if he’s honest with himself? He’s far too emotionally drained to fight. Instead, he stays stretched forward, legs crossed and arms out with him palms above his head pressed on the mattress.

At first, nothing happens. Merlin closes his eyes, rolling his shoulders and thinking maybe he should just go to bed. And then he feels a spot of heat getting closer to his lower back. The breath that leaves him sounds almost as relieved as he feels. 

The rubbing starts out slow and small, Arthur’s hand taking its time to widen its circles.

“I really needed you there,” Merlin says with his voice rougher than he expected.

The rubbing stops for only a moment before continuing.

“I can be here now,” Arthur offers.

When Merlin can't bring himself to say anything, he rearranges himself onto him side, closer to Arthur, silently prompting him to keep rubbing.


	242. August 29th

After a tense and quiet night the previous night, it’s reassuring to have Merlin curled up close to Arthur, takeaway boxes and napkins scattered on their laps and the coffee table in front of them.

“How was your day?” Merlin asks him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry. I went back to college today and I just needed something short.


	243. August 30th

“Do you remember-”

“No,” Merlin cuts Arthur off.

Arthur lifts a hand as if to silently berate Merlin for interrupting such an important moment.

“I didn’t even get to say.”

“Your tone and your face say enough. You were about to say something embarrassing I did that was actually really sad for me but really funny for you.”

“I wasn’t!” Arthur swears.

“No?”

“No.”

Merlin scrunches up one side of his mouth, looking somewhat pained as he considers his next words carefully.

“No, I’m not taking that chance.”

“Maybe I was going to ask you about that game of dice you won against me.”

“You’re not fooling me, Arthur.”

“Okay, but the-“

This time, Merlin shoving a pillow into his face cuts Arthur off.


	244. August 31st

“You should probably write something for today.”

“Yeah. But I can’t think of anything.”


	245. September 1st

“Hey,” Arthur tries. “Hey.”

In the middle of the night with his arms crossed over his chest and hands grasping firmly to his opposite shoulders, Merlin has a panic attack. His breath is coming and going too fast, more like sudden whooshes of air and nothing is wrong. He knows that there is nothing to be panicking about, but that’s how these things usually tend to work. 

One of Arthur’s hands has fitted itself underneath Merlin’s crossed ones and is placed firmly over his heart while his other hand presses flat against his upper stomach. Being lain out on their sides, it barely registers somewhere in the back of his mind that he must be crushing one of Arthur’s arms.

“We’re real,” Arthur reminds him softly, firmly, and directly into his ear. “We’re here. We’re in our bed. We – you and me – are fine. We are so fine, Merlin. And you’ll be fine. I just need you to take a deep breath.”

If anything, Merlin’s breathing only speeds up.

“You might not want to, but that’s not okay.”

Merlin’s lips pinch together as if to make a point, his eyes squeezing as tight as his throat suddenly feels.

“You will be okay. You will be okay. You will be okay. You will be…“

The chant might go on, but Merlin doesn’t hear it if he does, suddenly too focused on everything around him slowing down to hear anything for a while.

“… okay.”


	246. September 2nd

After both Merlin and Arthur having had a long week in their own ways, they decide to spend their night cooking up any and almost all leftovers they manage to find stored in their apartment and watching old Disney movies.


	247. September 3rd

After an entire day spent cleaning the apartment, Arthur and Merlin are relieved to be invited out to dinner.

"I'm so hungry. We haven't eaten since, like, ten. This morning. I'm so fucking hungry. Oh my god, I'm hungry."

"He's been saying this the whole way here. Actually, no, he's been saying it since before we even left."

"You had crisps a while ago!"

"Okay, Merlin."

"I'm driving, I get to complain."

Arthur rolls his eyes, but doesn't say any more. It's true, Merlin had offered to be the designated driver so Arthur could drink.

"I think it's your turn, anyways," Merin had said.

++

"And then-" Merlin breaks off with laughter. They're back at their place, the rest of the their gang have had joined them. "Then I remember Morgana had grabbed me, nearly crying!"

"The guy threw up on my shoes!"

"But did he throw up on _you_?" asks Leon. "No."

Everyone else laughs louder, Merlin settling first so he can steadily grab him quarter filled glass of wine. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Arthur quieting down to watch him. They both know it's Merlin's first time drinking on his increased medication dose, so he's taking it easy to test the reaction, something that concerned Arthur that Merlin feels the need to do in the first place. 

He takes a small sip, and then leans in up against Arthur to whisper for only him to hear, "I'm fine."

Arthur puts one arm around Merlin's waist and pulls him in closer, squeezing his hip once in a silent okay.


	248. September 4th

“Don’t get mad.”

Arthur looks up from his spot on the couch. When Merlin had gone to answer the knocking on their door, he hadn’t thought much of it. But now, as he sees a black ball of fur curled up in Merlin’s cradling hands against his chest, he’s starting to think that maybe he should have been the one to answer.

“His name is Foxy and he’s only about six weeks old,” Merlin tells him, looking down at the kitten in his hands. “We don’t even have to keep him! Only until we can find him a better place, if you really don’t want him!”

Behind Merlin walks in Gaius.

“I went to visit your uncle today, Arthur. And while there, I noticed some cats and kittens running around the prison.” He takes a seat on one end of the couch. “Apparently, they’ve been there a while, with the newest litters of kittens being larger than anticipated. Poor things were practically living out of the sewers and gutters and dropped or sneaked food. The guards have been speaking of killing them. It was very upsetting to hear, so I offered to take any that could be captured”

“You mean there’s more?” Arthur blanches.

“No,” Gaius informs his balefully without offering any sort of explanation. “And I was so distraught, I had forgotten why Alice and I no longer have a cat anymore. Although, despite the allergies, Alice has kept some of the old things – you know, litter box, toys, and what not – so there’s no need for you to go out and buy anything just yet. But I did stop off at the store for litter and food, so you’re welcome.” It’s said as if buying the necessities for a pet Arthur never asked for in the first place is such a big deed.

Nonetheless, Arthur isn’t going to argue with the man who is quite literally about to become family. “Thanks.”

“Look, he’s even got blue eyes, just like us,” Merlin croons, practically taking a seat in Arthur’s lap to show off Foxy.

Arthur looks at the kitten, at a loss for anything else to do. When the kitten looks back at Arthur, he meows just once, voice soft, but high pitched, and Arthur’s heart can’t help but swell at the similar noise Merlin makes laughingly and a little wetly in reaction.

Then Gaius leans in to whisper loud enough for only himself and Arthur to hear, “Just be glad it wasn’t a puppy like your boy wants,” and Arthur thinks that maybe this isn’t the worst possible thing that could happen for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, we accidentally adopted a kitten named Foxy today...


	249. September 5th

Maybe it isn’t that Arthur doesn’t want a pet, but it also isn’t that he does. As a child growing up with a single parent who was hardly even home much, a pet had always been out of the question, aside from a few fish he was given sporadically as what he was told were trial runs, but were actually just ways to distract little boy Arthur from his quest for something more interactive. When this proved not to be as fun as Arthur had anticipated, he had given up on the idea of having a pet. Then a boy he used to often play with got a puppy, and suddenly the puppy had taken up Arthur’s place as companion to the other boy.

And maybe it isn’t just the ownership of a pet that’s bothering Arthur. Maybe Arthur’s feelings behind being replaced by a puppy being repeated by other animals and humans alike, Arthur had grown to become very picky about who he kept in his immediate social circle.

First it was the puppy, then it was Morgana. Arthur and Morgana had grown up together for most of their childhoods, but at first, it was only ever Arthur and Uther. When Morgana came along, not quite adopted, Uther had taken an instant shine to her, wanting to, in Arthur’s opinion, spent more time with her than him. 

Luckily, their rebellious teenage years coinciding with their father suddenly appearing less and less at home brought Morgana and Arthur closer together. But by this time, Arthur had filled his gaping hole for companionship with Leon. Except Leon liked Morgana and Morgana liked Leon in a way made Arthur feel betrayed buy them the same way he felt betrayed by his friend with the puppy and Uther with Morgana. But out of this came Gwen, who grew closer to Arthur in a way both like he had been close to Leon and Leon had been close to Morgana.

The problem was that Lancelot then came along, befriending Arthur like Arthur had befriended Leon, but also connecting with Gwen in the way Leon connected with Morgana and Arthur had thought he had been connecting with Gwen.

But then things got better.

To this day, Arthur isn’t quite sure how Merlin has slipped into his life the way he has, but he knows he’s never been more thankful for anything in his life, especially since he has never felt betrayed by Merlin in the way he has felt betrayed by others. Until now. And it’s not even that Arthur feels betrayed, but there was reason for Arthur to be so hesitant about adopting a puppy. But now, to so simply being handed a kitten that Merlin obviously must have fallen in love with at first glance? Well, that makes Arthur a lot more nervous than he knows he logically should be.

“You really don’t like him, do you?” Merlin asks him.

“I don’t not like him,” Arthur allows, not quite ready to voice his true thoughts, if ever.

“No, I can tell that you don’t.” 

Merlin nods to the meat Arthur has nearly smashed nearly paper-thin and Arthur’s jaw clenches for a moment. The worst part of this is that Arthur, curiously, when he found himself home before Merlin, had taken to trying to get used to the kitten. It had fallen asleep curled up against his neck and he had nearly cried for reasons he refuses to examine.

“I’m already bringing him to the vet to get all his shots, I think that shows my lack of reluctance well enough,” Arthur points out because he doesn’t know what else to say.

Leaning directly into his side, Merlin exhales right into Arthur’s ear, like the kitten had earlier, and Arthur has to stop himself from shaking and his heart from trying to squeeze its way out through his throat.

It’s quiet for a moment before Merlin softly asks, “You really don’t not like him?”

“Just… give me some time, Merlin.”

At first, Merlin doesn’t say anything, but with a shift of his neck, he soon rested his head against Arthur’s neck, much like Foxy had done, and then he spoke.

“Okay.”


	250. September 6th

“I don’t care what Uther or anyone else in your life has ever done to you to make you think all creatures are undeserving of your love, or whatever, but I know you love Merlin and I also know that Merlin refuses to truly love that kitten because he loves you more. And for whatever reason, to him, that means that if you, the one creature he loves most in the world, for reasons I’ll forever pretend to never understand, refuse to so much as even _like_ Foxy, then Merlin won’t keep him and deep down in our repressive, shriveled, blackened, little hearts, we both know that would crush him. So, get the fuck over it, or get rid of him tomorrow because if Gwen’s right, Merlin’s already halfway in love with the thing. And before you go and get all dramatic, even fully in love with a fucking _cat_ , Merlin still wouldn’t even be a quarter as in love with the thing as he is with you. Now, I’ll stall him as long as I can, but that won’t be for long, so get home as soon as you can and at least try.”

Before Arthur can so much as get a breath in, Morgana hangs up.

And so, it is because of this phone call that Arthur finds himself on his hands and knees leaning into the fenced in area they’ve been keeping Foxy in at the corner of their bedroom.

“Come on, Foxy,” Arthur tries to coo, alongside clicking his tongue, making kissy noises, and trying the sort of ‘pst’ sounding noise Merlin’s been using the past two days to get Foxy’s attention.

It takes him a while, but eventually Arthur and the kitten come to what Arthur thinks is some sort of understanding. At first, when Arthur had picked him up, the blasted thing had meowed and cried at him and kept doing for every position Arthur tried to get Foxy comfortable in. But then, one part desperate and one part frustrated, Arthur had stood, cradling the kitten to his chest like Merlin tended to. 

His knees a little sore from the hardwood floors, he decided to make for the bed to get comfortable, especially since he has a feeling that this _bonding_ is going to take a while.

About an hour later, this is why Merlin finds Arthur asleep sitting up in their bed with Foxy asleep and curled up to his neck, supported by Arthur’s crossed arms high over his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [In case you're wondering what Foxy looks like. (Taken from my tumblr.)](http://thelordvoldemort.tumblr.com/post/149985152947) He just woke up from a little nap he took after tiring himself from excitedly exploring my room where he will now be sleeping and is currently sitting in my lap as I write this. (:


	251. September 7th

Arthur and Foxy are right where Merlin left them before he went off to shower –curled up in bed. With Foxy laying out on his chest facing him, Arthur is lying most of the way back on the pillows, watching Foxy watch him. Because he doesn’t much like wearing his glasses when he lies back in bed, Arthur has taken the off, giving Foxy the perfect opportunity to observe Arthur more carefully than he has done for the past few days.

Merlin had briefly read into it, of course, the signs of affection that cats show their human owners. Getting up close to their face and making what looks to Merlin to be some serious eye contact if Foxy’s head tilting and Arthur’s ever widening eyes are anything to go by, are some very serious affection signs. However, if Foxy were really to be telling Arthur that he loves him he would-

Arthur flinches and squeezes his eyes shut as Foxy extends one paw out towards his face.

Foxy then pulls back, causing Arthur to open his eyes. When he puts his paw forth once more, Arthur seemingly resists the urge to flinch, but still closes his eyes. And then Foxy leans in to sniff at Arthur’s eye before pulling back once more. From there it becomes almost a game; Arthur opening his eyes as Foxy pulls away and closing them again when he touches his paw under his eye again. He manages not to flinch most of the time. The last time he does flinch is also the last time that Foxy puts his paw to Arthur’s face as Arthur has finally noticed Merlin’s return to their bedroom.

“I think he’s wondering where my glasses are,” Arthur tells him sheepishly, quietly, as if he believes it as little as Merlin does.

“I think he’s trying to tell you he loves you,” Merlin informs him seriously, watching his reaction carefully.

Arthur blushes and turns back to the cat. While Foxy is still looking at him, he has shrunk back some and has seized from touching him.

“If that’s true, then I get the feeling he might think I’ve rejected him.” And Arthur sounds rather sad about that.

Merlin takes his time dressing and getting into bed before responding.

Foxy takes a moment to look to Merlin, acknowledging his presence, then goes back to watching over Arthur.

“I don’t believe that.”

Reaching out his own hand, Arthur strokes Foxy’s face slowly, lingering along the stripe of white along the inner left side of his face.

He doesn’t say it aloud, but if there’s something Merlin does believe, it is that Arthur has fallen in love with Foxy just as much as Foxy has fallen in love with him. And perhaps it’s made Merlin fall a little more in love with the both of them.


	252. September 8th

The loud banging from the large family upstairs wakes Merlin, Arthur, and Foxy way too earlier. Unable to go back to sleep, Merlin and Arthur decide to let Foxy explore their bed. That is, until Foxy becomes unsatisfied with only being allowed access to the bed and jumps off.

After the initial panicking, Arthur and Merlin take a moment to actually look at Foxy, who is happily running around the room at top speed. But, still nervous, they decide to make a grab for him so they can check him over. Except the little bastard runs under the bed. 

When they finally trick him out for underneath, they snatch him over, give him a quick once over, and then put him back in his fenced in area.

++

Having hastily made plans the night previous to meet up with George after they both finish work, Merlin and Arthur come home later than they normally would have. Not only does this upset them, but apparently Foxy is so desperate to see them, that when they enter their bedroom, he starts to climb up his fence.

“Oh my god!”

“Get him off before he gets hurt!”

“Fuck, Arthur, I’m trying! Get the lock!”

After yet another scramble for their cat and some Google searches, they decide to leave Foxy’s cage open as they ready for bed and make themselves comfortable. This is much to Foxy’s delight, as the kitten takes to running animatedly and excitedly around the whole room.

When Merlin hears an insistent meow a few minutes later, he looks over his side of the bed to find Foxy stretched out towards him. And when Merlin picks him up, there’s fluff bunnies all over his head. He thinks the kitten must be calm and ready to cuddle now, so he removes the fluff and places him on his lap. 

Foxy takes off running and jumps off the bed once more.

Arthur looks up from watching Foxy and meets Merlin’s eye.

“I’m too tired for this. You deal with him.”

“You make us sound like some married couple with a baby.”

Blinking a few times, Arthur stares blankly at Merlin long enough that it really makes Merlin think back over his words more carefully.

He blushes.

“Not like- I mean. That’s not…”

Rolling his eyes, Arthur removes his glasses and places him on his bedside table.

“Come on,” he says, lying back on his side and lifting an arm. “Might as well make the most of our time together before the baby’s ready for bed.”

The blush spreads.


	253. September 9th

Foxy manages to sleep in Arthur and Merlin’s bed until two in the morning, when he suddenly wants to play. They decide to put him back in his fenced off area for the rest of the remaining hours they’re allowed to sleep, and tonight they will try again.

“Our lives are going to be consumed by this cat for the foreseeable future, aren’t they?”

“If our social lives disappear entirely, Morgana will force us out by the ears, so I’m not all that concerned.”

“And if our sex lives disappear?”

“We still have some unopened pantie packages.”


	254. September 10th

After spending their whole day with Foxy, they worry at night that maybe they've spoiled him too much and that the separation anxiety when Merlin and Arthur go back to work on Monday might leave too big of an impact on their little kitten. Also, when he keeps climbing onto Merlin's bedside table - which has a huge pile of books they both worry might topple over - they worry that maybe they haven't disciplined with enough and that pairing it with the possible separation anxiety, they day together might be all for the worse than for the better.


	255. September 11th

At brunch, Arthur and Merlin spend a good amount of their conversations gushing over Foxy. Anyone that is surprised to see Arthur so enthusiastic about the kitten, they - meaning everyone – go ballistic, exaggerating (in Arthur’s opinion) their shock.

“You’re in love with the thing!”

“He’s not a thing.”

“Not a thing. You’re only making it worse on yourself with a statement like that.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Are you going to declaw him?” Gwen asks, nodding to the scratches littered up and down Merlin and Arthur’s arms.

The two men grimace.

“As nice as it would be to refrain from any further scars…” Arthur starts.

Merlin picks up the rest of Arthur’s thought. “We read some articles; a lot of articles, really. And we’ve seen so many pictures that – well. We just couldn’t do that to him.”

“Have you tried scruffing him?” Leon asks.

“Yeah. Doesn’t seem to make much of a difference to him.”

“Actually, it seems to make him a bit worse.”

“Well, I mean, given the circumstances of how you got him, he really doesn’t have any model at all for how he should react to anything, now does he?” Lance inquires.

“Mm. You’ve got a point. We’ve only just gotten him to cover what he’s leaving behind in the litter box, and in the same day he’s learned to climb the curtains.”

“And our shirts.”

“At least he’s stopped trying to climb his fence.”

“Oh god, don’t get me started.”


	256. September 12th

It surprises Merlin, the sudden upset to his day. Maybe his medication isn't working as well as he had hoped. Maybe it's just the depression, as it usually tends to fester in around this time of year. Remembering how it nearly had him silent for weeks last year, he's afraid of what could happen this year.

He tries to voice his thoughts to Arthur when they're getting ready for bed at night, watching Foxy jump around their bed in hope that it might settle his nerves some. It helps a little, but not much as Melin finds that he can't think of much to say and that scares him a little bit.

Luckily he has Arthur, who has been through this with him before.

"If you find that you can't talk much for a few days, then you don't have to, so long as you still come to bed in my arms every night so I know you're alright. I'll try not to let you get that bad. And if you do, then I'll still be here, by your side, talking enough for the both of us. I'll even talk more than Leon when it comes to the theatre, if that's what you want."

Merlin snorts at that.


	257. September 13th

A small, steady stream of water falls down Merlin’s temple from his hairline. Admittedly, it had been a rushed towel-drying job, Merlin too distracted to really care about how wet he could be getting his pillow, and yet, when he lies back and creates a wet spot on his pillow, he can’t but the grimace.

“How was the doctor’s?” Arthur asks.

There’s a bit of a clatter on the ground so Merlin turns and looks down to see Foxy trying to tangle himself in Merlin’s now drying towel hanging off the back of a chair.

“He says he thinks my head pains are all due to my emotions. And that if I’m still having head problems in two to three years to come back, take some more tests, and compare to my current results to see if anything has changed.” To lighten to the mood, he adds, “Oh, and apparently I scored superior on most of the testing.”

“Well, that bits’ no surprise,” Arthur says, lightly, trying to be gentle for Merlin’s sake. “As much as I used to call you an idiot, you are my intellectual equal.” He pauses momentarily, as if for effect. “And I mean, knowing how smart I am…”

Merlin smacks him with his pillow, making sure the wet spot from his hair hits Arthur right in the face.

They laugh a bit, and Arthur relishes in seeing Merlin smiling, his eyes crinkling.

A broken meow quiets them.

Arthur picks Foxy up as Merlin fixes his pillow, putting the dry side under his head. While he settles, Arthur chooses his next words carefully.

“How do you feel about it?” 

The brunet rolls his eyes and Arthur isn’t really surprised. He knows Merlin despises the ‘and how does that make you feel?’ line after what he believes were years of therapy gone wrong that only taught him how to better fake a smile as he disguises his real issues and stew his bitterness.

“I don’t like it.” 

When Merlin can’t bring himself to offer more than that, Arthur carefully places Foxy on Merlin’s chest before rolling over onto his side to put his blond head on Merlin’s shoulder. For Merlin, he can always be patient.


	258. September 14th

Apparently, they’re out of white printer paper for their machine at home. Arthur only finds this out when he goes to print his notes for a meeting tomorrow and they come out on blue paper. Since this isn’t the first time that this has happened – and honestly, he truly believes that the one time he handed in one of the most important files of that year on orange paper, it was because of those very orange papers that his report got at least fifteen times more recognition than it really deserved – he decides to just go with it, but makes a mental note that buy regular white printer paper soon.

On return to his laptop, Arthur is met with Merlin trying to gently, but with discipline, wrestle Foxy away from chewing the laptop cord.

“We haven’t used the blue paper in a while. I thought for sure we were out by now?”

“Nah,” Merlin murmurs absently as he watches with a pinched face as Foxy licks his hand in an apology that everyone in the room is no fool to take as being one hundred percent genuine. “Found some more in the cupboard. I guess there’s a lot more than I remember buying.”

“I thought Gwaine stocked all that paper as a joke.”

Merlin looks up at him, suddenly bewildered.

“Then what paper did I buy?”

“Not the white kind, apparently,” Arthur informs him blandly.

“Shut the fuck up.” But it doesn’t come out bitingly as Merlin finds himself laughing too hard to take the situation too seriously.


	259. September 15th

The gang meets up for lunch today when they find their breaks all matching up. With the weather finally cooling down, they decide to make a trip of it by gathering at a park. Merlin orders the pizza to bring with him and the girls as they carpool over since this whole thing had been his idea, and because he doesn’t trust Gwaine to buy a pizza and not eat it all himself.

There’s a cherry blossom – or, at least, Merlin thinks it’s a cherry blossom – at the edge of the park that has privately become the group’s favorite. Without even having to say so, they all meet up there.

The grown has grown much healthier, much greener since the last time any of them can remember being there, which prompts Merlin to lie down on it the moment he’s finished off his slice and then he waits until Arthur is finished so he can make him lie down next to him.

Arthur looks at him questioningly, but doesn’t actually ask or say anything. When Merlin pulls out his phone, Arthur gives him another look.

“We haven’t taken a nice picture together in a while,” Merlin explains.

After a few good shots, Arthur starts to get a bit bored, so he decides to make faces. 

“Hey,” Morgana says as she lies down on Merlin’s other side, moving her head in close so she can be part of the frame, as well, not taking much notice when Merlin switches from camera to video. “Do you remember the cowboy thing?”

Arthur bursts out laughing, Merlin angling his phone closer to better catch the moment.

He ends the video mid laugh, right when other heads have lowered to the ground and entered the camera’s view.

The next half hour is spent laughing, recording videos and taking photos on everyone’s phones as they look like a bunch of lunatics huddled together in the cold under some shade.


	260. September 16th

“This morning update is brought to you by Foxy,” Merlin invoices. “Who has jumped onto your head.”

“I thought he was on the floor?” Arthur grouses, gently pushing Foxy off him.

“Yes,” Merlin states. “He was. And then he found that by climbing my backpack, he could then jump into the open drawer of the bedside table, and then onto the actual bedside table itself, and then onto the bed. And then from there, he managed to jump you.”

“I… Don’t really have anything to say to that. Can I go back to sleep?”

“Sure.”

Arthur fitfully attempts to fall back to sleep, but a sharp gasp and Merlin slapping both hands and a good part of his whole body weight into Arthur’s stomach not long after startles him to full wakefulness. Opening his eyes just in time, he sees Foxy rolling off the bed with the small stuffed animal cat Gwen had given them to give to him. 

Rolling over, Arthur isn’t fast enough to catch the kitten, but that’s alright, as Foxy lands on his feet, anyways. 

“Watch,” Merlin whispers from his newfound place above Arthur, one hand now secured on Arthur’s side and the other on his thigh.

Distracted momentarily by Merlin’s hands on him, Arthur has to take a second to focus again. When a dark figure quickly moves in his line of site, his eyes snap to attention and focus in on Foxy on top of Merlin’s backpack. It takes the kitten only a second and then he’s jumping into the bedside drawer filled endlessly with junk. 

Foxy once more on the bed, Arthur reaches out a hand to pet him, only for the damn cat to skitter away.

“He’s quick.”

“Yeah,” Merlin quietly agrees, absentmindedly running his hand on Arthur’s thigh up and down, to and from his hip.


	261. September 17th

“You should probably get your writing done for today.”

“Yeah, but Foxy’s wrapped himself around my arm and now he’s asleep. It would be rude to wake him just so I can write. Besides, I don’t have any ideas for today.”

Arthur translated Merlin's response to mean that he was too wrapped up in his own head at the moment and that he didn't quite fancy untangling himself just yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, friends.


	262. September 18th

Today is one of Merlin’s bad days. There’s one point when Merlin is teasing and bubbly that leads Arthur to hope that Merlin might feel a bit better by nightfall. When Merlin quickly reverts back to drawing into himself, Arthur reminds himself that sometimes hope can’t actually do anything but be there as a silent observer. And when Merlin eyes his prescription Xanax when he’s getting ready for bed, he holds his breath until Merlin turns away, and then Arthur just holds Merlin’s hand for a while.


	263. September 19th

Leaning forward to peer over the top of his laptop, Merlin asks, “Am I not paying enough attention to you?” 

In response, Foxy stares wide eyed up at Merlin from his position on top of Merlin’s feet.

“Gimme paw.” 

Merlin reaches out a hand, waiting a second for the kitten to give Merlin his paw. When he does, Merlin exaggerates a gasp and holds onto Foxy’s paw, shaking it up and down carefully, as if in a tiny handshake.

“You did it!” Merlin whisper-cheers. “Yeah! Yay!”

As if in a celebration of his own – or maybe he has already grown tired of this trick – the kitten attacks Merlin’s hand, putting a small part of his thumb in his mouth and wrapping his remaining limbs around the rest of his hand.

“We really need to teach him not to do that,” Arthur sighs, but by the shake of his head and the upwards twitch at the corners of his mouth, Merlin can tell that Arthur is amused, and maybe even a bit charmed. “You know, he actually fell asleep like the other day.”

“Did he really?”

Carefully, Arthur reaches out both his hands, attempting to untangle Foxy.

“Yeah, I couldn’t get anything done.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” Merlin turns back to his laptop, “he fell asleep curled up around my foot the other day for so long that eventually my foot fell asleep. And when I really had to pee, he still hadn’t woken up. I kind of felt bad waking him up, but I really had to go.”

Arthur hisses suddenly and Merlin looks over just in time to see Foxy climbing up Arthur’s arm, claws out and all, headed straight to perch himself onto Arthur’s shoulder. A few new marks have joined the collection of many that litter Arthur’s arms, hands, and back. Merlin sympathetically draws a breath in through his teeth.

“Maybe we should learn to cut his nails. I tried to earlier when I was cutting my own,” because his anxiety was causing him to scratch far too much lately, he didn’t need to say because Arthur had already figured it out, “but he retracted them and I couldn’t find them. Was kinda scared to, if I’m honest.”

“I’ll ask when I bring him to the vet for his shots tomorrow,” Arthur offers, grimacing.

“Oh, right.”

“That is, if I even make it in time.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Merlin insists, but he can’t help it when his brows furrow in a moment of heightened anxiety. Arthur is very strict about being early and always stresses when he isn’t.

Arthur makes a noncommittal grunt, distracting himself for a moment by catching Foxy and clutching him to his neck as he attempts to make his way down from Arthur’s shoulder. Slowly, he pushes him back into position and gives him a brief peck once he’s resituated himself.

Maybe they will be fine, Merlin thinks.

As an unknown caller calls Arthur's phone a moment later, the dread in Merlin's stomach tells him that he's thought too soon because they both know that "Unknown" is actually code for the prison Arthur's uncle is in. They haven't seen that pop up on his phone in weeks.

"You have a prepaid call," the automatic voice chimes after Arthur hesitantly presses the answer button.

About five to eight minutes later, and suddenly last night's roles are reversed and Arthur is the silent one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've made it to 60,000+ words!!!
> 
> Also. Wow. It's been a tough past few days, my friends. Thank you for sticking around, anyway.


	264. September 20th

It’s a busy day for Merlin, and he knows he’ll be up at all hours of the night working, too. And when Arthur texts him a picture midday of Foxy in his cat carrier at the vet, stretching his front legs out through the caged front door and grabbing onto Arthur’s offered hand pushed up against the carrier, with the caption, “He kept crying and poking at me until I let him hold my hand. Little brat’s perfectly silent now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted this to be so much longer, but it's late and I have so much work to do...


	265. September 21st

“… And I just froze. I thought I was so prepared, hardly even worried. And then when the presentation came up, I – it was horrible. I’ve ruined it. And I have another one tomorrow and I haven’t even done any of the work for it! None! And- and… And what are you doing?”

Merlin starts to turn his head, only to have Arthur still his movements.

“Trying to see how much of your hair I can tie up. It’s been a while since I last tried and your hair’s gotten quite long. Here, hold this.”

‘This’ happens to be Foxy who apparently tried to hang from one of Arthur’s arms. He had slept most of the day, lethargic from the shot and eardrops given to him at yesterday’s vet appointment. Merlin and Arthur had feared their kitten would be up all night and feeling him attempt to wrestle his way out of Merlin’s hands now only proves them right. But at least they had learned how to trim him nails yesterday, so Merlin is relatively unharmed.

Curling Foxy to his chest with one hand, Merlin reaches out blindly with his other until he finds the silky red ribbon Foxy so cherished.

It was an accident, really, that Arthur had make Foxy’s favorite color red (even if Google says that cats can’t exactly see red) and his favorite toy a very big, nice quality red ribbon.

“Would it take you long to get tomorrow’s presentation ready?”

“Most likely,” Merlin sighs, bouncing the ribbon up and down on the bed for Foxy to tangle into.

“Well, it’s half past ten now. You have a long day tomorrow. Neither of us really got any sleep last night. Could you do some of it now, some in the morning?”

“Like I’ll actually get up,” Merlin huffs quietly. “I blanked today. I think I’m already pretty shot.”

Arthur releases Merlin’s hair, then starts running his fingers slowly through the strands, taking his time to gather them back up again.

“Is there anything I can do?” he asks carefully, knowing Merlin can very picky about having help with his writings.

“Thank you, but no. Even I hardly know what I’m doing.”

“Well. In any case, Fox seems to think you’re doing a wonderful job.” The corners of Merlin’s mouth softly twitch up at that. “And if it’s any consolation,” Arthur leans in to kiss behind Merlin’s ear, making him shiver and whispers, “So do I.”


	266. September 22nd

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a very legitimate excuse for this chapter being so short.

“Have you gotten any work done since you got home?”

“Foxy fell asleep on me and I thought it would be rude to wake him.”


	267. September 23rd

When Arthur gets home – late because of a business dinner – he quietly makes his way through the dark apartment to find Merlin lain out on his stomach on their bed, starring out the window with Foxy perched on his head.

Slowly, he makes his way to the bed, trying not to disturb his two boys as he climbs on. Foxy turns his head, and upon seeing his other owner, stares a moment longer before turning back to face the window, resting his head back down on top of Merlin’s. As Arthur gets closer, he can see that Merlin has his face propped up in on hand. Arthur lays on Merlin’s other side, slipping an arm around his back and pressing his face into his shoulder with a quick kiss.

“How was your day?” he asks quietly.

Merlin makes a noncommittal noise. “Long. Made dinner, which sucked. The upstairs neighbor had a huge row. Took some Xanax.” He shrugs. “Now here we are.”

Arthur takes a moment to process his thoughts. 

He stares out of the window.

“What are we looking at?” eventually, he asks.

“Nothing in particular.”

They lie in silence for a time unknown and lost on Arthur as his eyelids begin to droop in his tiredness.

“Think you’ll be able to sleep tonight?” he asks, knowing Merlin’s rarely used meds can sometimes mess with his sleep when taken this late at night.

There’s a pause before Merlin answers.

“Yeah. Go get changed.”

“You sure?” Arthur warily asks.

Reaching up, Merlin carefully extracts Foxy from his hair before dislodging Arthur’s position against him by sitting up, shifting around, and then lying back against the pillows with Foxy curled against his chest.

“Go on. We can talk about it tomorrow.”

He puckers his lips slightly, making them form more of a pout in Arthur’s opinion if anything, but Arthur takes the hint and offers him a brief kiss before rising from the bed.


	268. September 24th

“I can’t tell if he pines for you when you’re on your laptop, or if he’s just jealous that the laptop is getting attention and he isn’t.”

“Foxy?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, he does look quite sad.”


	269. September 25th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE.

As soon as they reach Morgana and Leon’s, Merlin takes his mobile out.

“Who could you possibly be texting? You know we’re about to see most of our immediate friend group in just a few seconds, right?” Arthur asks.

Merlin makes a noncommittal noise, putting the device back into his pocket just as Arthur’s starts to vibrate in his own pocket.

Pulling it out, he raises a brow when Merlin’s name pops up.

“Merlin…”

“I’d check that before we get to the door,” Merlin advises plainly, hurrying his step.

Suddenly anxious, Arthur unlocks his home screen, only to fumble not to drop the whole thing all together a moment later.

“Merlin!”

But it’s too late as Merlin has already knocked on the door.

“What the hell took you so long?” Morgana asks when she answers the door.

Before two seconds ago, Arthur had thought it was because Merlin was lazily taking his time getting dressed back home. Courtesy of the photo of Merlin in a lacy thong taken from the point of view of their full-length bedroom mirror, he finds it safe to say that he now knows better.

“No, don’t answer. I don’t want to know. How’s the fox?” 

Morgana turns away and Merlin looks at him out of the corner of his eye for only a moment. And then Merlin spends the next few hours ignoring confronting Arthur directly, but also constantly touching him, constantly finding any excuse possible to shamelessly rub against him. And Arthur sports half a hard on the entire time, almost going full fledged when Merlin bends to pick up a dropped napkin at one point, pushing his pert arse against Arthur’s thigh and showing a line of dark blue lace bows over the top of his jeans.

It takes a great deal of patience and self-restraint to get through brunch and then to go without touching the entire ride home.

A few hours later, they are finally home and before Merlin can even get a word out, Arthur pushes him down on the couch, pulling off his jeans and using his tongue to rub the blue, lacy fabric against Merlin’s twitching hole, most likely chafing him at first, but gradually adding more and more saliva to create a better sensation for Merlin.

“That was fucking torture,” Arthur croaks out when he pulls back to take a breath.

Merlin groans. “That was nothing. Wait until you see what I have planned for the rest of the week.”

Moaning, Arthur shoves his face back into the panties at Merlin’s arse, biting at them to tug them aside enough to be able to touch his tongue directly to Merlin pink, taut skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided that this entire week will be dedicated to those goddamn packages. Guess the color of tomorrow's thong correctly, and I'll let you choose what position I write our boys in. (;


	270. September 26th

After a long, stressful day for Merlin, Arthur, who comes home late, isn’t all that surprised to find him passed out in their bed with his work strewn all around him. He tries to be careful not to wake him by slowly gathering up his papers, but Merlin wakes, anyways.

“Hey,” Arthur whispers softly, pushing Merlin’s hair out of his face. “How are you feeling?”

It takes Merlin a moment to think and Arthur waits patiently, still carding his fingers through the dark locks.

Groggily, he finally responds, “Like having ice cream for dinner.”

So they do.

They don’t talk about Merlin’s day, how he woke several hours too early to an emergency phone call. Instead, they mostly eat in silence; but with Merlin leaning up against Arthur as the sole support to hold him upright, Arthur can’t really find it in himself to have a single complaint.

When they make it back to their bedroom, Arthur decides to just start changing for bed, but Merlin hesitates.

“I really did have plans for us today,” he admits sheepishly, guiltily as he drops his trousers to reveal a simple black thong.

Arthur stops him when he starts to thumb at the sides.

“Let me take care of you.”

Merlin bites his lower lip, already looking disheveled despite the regretful look on his face.

“You really don’t have to,” he offers quietly.

“Do you not want to?” Arthur asks honestly.

Merlin hesitates once more.

“It might take me a while,” comes out a little shamefully. They’re still testing out the supposed increased sex drive Merlin’s medication lists as a side effect.

“That’s fine.”

And it is fine, and it does take a while. But eventually, Arthur has Merlin laid out on his back, legs spread and hands gently carding through Arthur’s hair as he mouths at the silk encasing Merlin’s straining cock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been a day, my friends...


	271. September 27th

After tonight’s adventure, Merlin and Arthur change their sheets before letting Foxy settle in as they end their night with showering together. At first, the whole thing is rather nice, slowly lathering and rinsing the other with soft touches and gentle kisses, occasionally stopping everything just to lean into one another. It’s peaceful, serene just being able to be in each other’s space and barely having to communicate verbally, for the most part instinctually knowing what their partner wants when they want it. It’s during one of those moments – Arthur reaching for the shampoo so they can wash each other’s hair, a rare treat for both of them – when the peace slips away.

“No,” Arthur whispers to himself, raising a hand to his nose. “No.”

“What is it?” Merlin asks, suddenly concerned.

Merlin’s jaw drops when Arthur turns to him, thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose as blood streams out of his nostrils.

“Oh my god!”

“Merlin.”

“You’re bleeding.”

“Yes, Merlin.”

“B- but this hasn’t happened in weeks!”

“I know, Merlin.”

“Oh my god. What do we do?”

Very calmly, he tells Merlin, “We wash our hair.”

“But you’re bleeding!”

It takes a great deal of restraint to keep from rolling his eyes.

“Then you should wash mine so I don’t have to do it one handed like I usually do.” That seems to snap Merlin out of it a bit; the reminder that this isn’t the first time Arthur has had a nosebleed in the shower.

Quietly, more to himself than to Arthur, Merlin affirms, “Yes. Right,” and reaches for the shampoo.

Less than a minute later, Merlin is catching suds before they can fall into Arthur’s eyes, which he meets with his own.

“You still worry me, you know,” he admits quietly.

If there weren’t blood dribbling in and out of his mouth currently, Arthur would comfort Merlin with some kisses.

“I know.”

“Close your eyes.”

By the time Arthur’s hair has been rinsed out, the blood in his nose has clotted enough to stop flowing freely out.

“Close your eyes,” Arthur repeats Merlin’s earlier sentiment, but instead of making the request to keep water out of Merlin’s eyes, Arthur prevents him from seeing Arthur blow the blood clot out.

“What was that?” Merlin asks, opening his eyes.

“Don’t worry about it,” Arthur insists, grabbing the soap bar to create enough suds to wash his hands and any blood that possibly spots the shower walls.

Merlin keeps quiet as he watches Arthur ministrations. Once the last of the blood is swirling down the drain that rests between their feet, Merlin takes hold of Arthur’s wrists and runs them under the running shower water to clean them off. And then it’s time to use conditioner.


	272. September 28th

Because Foxy seems to feel neglected, Merlin and Arthur change their plans for the night and spend more time trying to train him than they do messing around together. Mostly, Arthur understands that Merlin is still somewhat panicked after last night and that the sudden stiff shoulder Arthur woke up to only worsened Merlin’s worry. Secretly, to himself, Arthur plans to make up for it on their Friday date night.


	273. September 29th

It comes as a surprise when the pain in Arthur’s left shoulder spreads to his entire left arm. What also comes as a surprise is Merlin having a bad day, concluded by a breakdown. So, at the end of the night, when they’re both filled from a quick dinner and too exhausted and quite unenthused, they decide to spend yet another night curled up in bed with Foxy. But still, Arthur plans for tomorrow.


	274. September 30th

Much to his displeasure and discomfort, Arthur is hit with a sudden cold.

“We’re supposed to have our date night,” he complains to Merlin.

“We still could,” Merlin suggests. “There’s warning for a possible flood. Might be best to stay in, anyways.”

Staying in doesn’t put a damper on Arthur’s plans, at all, but being sick does. Instead of a candlelit dinner in a nice, dark restaurant, served with rich foods Arthur could slowly seduce Merlin with by occasionally hand feeding him, Arthur has to settle for moving the couch in the living room to set up a blanket and dimmed lights with one safely, but also scented burning candle and Italian inspired tomato, mozzarella, basil, and pesto flatbreads that Merlin refuses to let Arthur make, lest he get Merlin sick, too. However, Merlin does let him make the dessert and feed it to him off a spoon.

“You know, I had plans for tonight,” Arthur tells him.

“Mm?” Merlin hums around the spoon in his mouth. Arthur takes it out, settling it down on the dirty, but empty dishes and Merlin swallows. “Like what?”

Arthur clears his throat, both because it’s starting to fill with mucus and because he’s suddenly a bit nervous. After all, it had been Merlin who had started this, and it had been Merlin who wore the panties all week.

“Well.” He clears his throat again. “I was hoping we could do something special.”

He only hesitates a moment before lifting the hem of his jumper and pulling down an edge of his trousers, but he finds it worth it when Merlin’s breath catches at the tease of pale pink lace. Arthur watches his adam’s apple bob.

“Fuck.”


	275. October 1st

In the morning, Arthur feels better and he vainly hopes his sickness is quickly going away. As the morning progresses, Arthur realizes that he might have jinxed himself.

“Right. You’re staying in bed today, then,” Merlin decides.

“Don’t be rash.”

“I’m not. I have to do, you need to relax, and it will give you and Foxy more of a reason to have some personal bonding time.”

“You do know he sleeps on me more than on you, right?” Arthur asks, only trying a little to say this carefully.

Merlin rolls his eyes.

“If I stay in bed, I’m just going to get worse.”

“You’re going to get worse whether you stay in bed or not, Arthur.”

“Exactly, which is why I should spend my day productively.”

It takes them a while to get anything done at all today.


	276. October 2nd

To his dismay, Arthur only gets sicker. To Merlin’s dismay, Arthur insists they still have brunch.

“And let Morgana lord it over my head for cancelling in the early stages of the common cold? I’m not that ill that I’m willing to live with the torture. Did I ever tell you about the time she had her wisdom teeth taken out on a Sunday and she still sat with us at brunch, albeit lording it over her renewed ice cream privileges? No, we’re still having brunch. Let’s just be thankful it’s here this time and not Gwen and Lance’s where they would coddle me into their own bed given the chance.”

“I can’t remember. Did we agree I wasn’t allowed to roll my eyes at you where you’re sick, or is it that I’m only allowed to do it if it’s behind your back?”

“Shut up, Merlin. And pass the tissues, please.”


	277. October 3rd

Today isn’t Arthur best day, but it most certainly is not his worst by far. Despite having grown sicker and waking after only five hours of sleep because he’s having trouble breathing, Arthur still has hope for a better day than his morning implies awaits him. 

Several hours, one nosebleed, one headache, and many cough ups of mucus later, Arthur is finally able to find a moment of peace; and he’s even managed to completely clean Foxy’s living quarters (water, food, and litter box) without a single mishap, making today not entirely unsuccessful.

And then Merlin comes home.

“Watch this,” Arthur instructs from the couch. He turns towards their kitten. “Mon petit,” he coos the accidentally adopted nickname they’ve accidentally taught Foxy to respond to, and on cue, he looks up at Arthur from his position on the floor, rolled onto his back with a small stuffed animal mouse in his mouth. A second later, Foxy looks away, which isn’t surprising as Merlin and Arthur are still teaching him to come when they call. But then, Arthur picks up a small, unopened packet of biscuits and suddenly Foxy jumps off, running and climbing at lightening speed to cling to Arthur’s hand in attempt to get him to release the bag.

“What in the world?” Merlin laughs. “He’s worse than Gwaine!”

Arthur only joins in the laughter for a few seconds, head tipped back and neck extended in one of his full body laughs, before he starts breaking down into a coughing fit. It ruins the moment, but Merlin tries his best to make up for it by coddling and running his fingers through Arthur’s hair once he’s calmed down.


	278. October 4th

Merlin and Arthur are just finishing their after dinner clean up routine when Arthur gets another nosebleed, except this one is a little different.

“Holy shit!” Merlin exclaims when Arthur pulls a blood clot longer and thicker than his thumb from his nostril.

“Fuck!” Arthur swears as he scrambles to grab another paper towel.

Not only is his nose still bleeding but also suddenly there is blood pouring from both nostrils. 

A few minutes later, Arthur has pulled out another clot, just as long and nearly just a thick once again from his left side, and an itty bitty normal snot sized clot from his right side. It takes a little longer for the bleeding to stop entirely, though, and as soon as it does, Gaius finally responds to Merlin’s frantic texts with a Facetime session.

“Merlin, you didn’t have to- Gaius, I’m sorry about this.”

“You think by now I’m not used to Merlin worrying over others?” Gaius brushes Arthur’s apologies aside. “Now let me see.”

Merlin flips the camera to show Gaius the blood clots laid out on paper towels.

“Well, it certainly looks disgusting, I’ll give you that,” he offers.

“They’re huge!” Merlin proclaims loudly, as if it isn’t obvious.

“I imagine they are. I haven’t dealt with many other’s nosebleeds, but if I remember correctly, Arthur, your mother’s father had them sporadically throughout his life. I think he had part of his nose cauterized, though. You said you’re seeing a doctor?” he asks Arthur.

“Uh, yeah. The one that told me to stick some KY jelly up my nose for a week and then come back in three months in case he was wrong and we would have to cauterize it or something.”

Gaius hums thoughtfully at that, patiently waiting for Arthur to continue.

“I kept the appointment, just in case. Was planning on calling to cancel soon, though.”

“And when is it?”

“Two weeks.”

Gaius hums again.

“I’d say keep it, for now. Maybe call them in the morning. Unless, of course, you start bleeding again before then, in which case, I’d see someone immediately.”

“You don’t think he will, though, do you?” Merlin asks.

“I’m sure it largely has to do with Arthur being sick. I can even see through the phone he doesn’t look well and his sinuses are probably just dry and inflamed. But if it worries you that much, Merlin, I can look into it.”

“No need, but thank you, Gauis,” Arthur hurries to give his pleasantries and thanks so they can end the call.

“You’re ridiculous,” Merlin tells him.

Arthur sighs.

“It’s not my first nosebleed, Merlin.”

“So you’re not worried?” 

At the almost angry tone, Arthur goes to reach out to comfort Merlin, only to catch the spots of blood on his hands out of the corner of his eye, which then reminds him of the streaks now painting his shirt.

“Of course I’m worried. But I have an appointment-“

“In two weeks.”

“Yes. And if anything gets any worse, there are doctors I could see before then. But for now, my head hurts, I’m tired, sick, and covered a bit in blood. So, if we could please just shower and get into bed?” he pleads.

After some initial hesitation, Merlin finally agrees.

“You shower first, I’ll take care of Foxy.”

Not wanting to argue, Arthur heads off towards their bathroom, stripping his shirt as he goes.

After they’ve both showered and settled themselves into bed, Foxy running amuck by their feet, Arthur decides to ask Merlin what’s really bothering him.

Merlin’s mouth curls up a little as he thinks his answer out.

“I know it’s nothing serious, but it’s still…” Merlin bites at the inside of his cheek, a habit that concerns Arthur to no end some days, as he grasps for the right word. “Frightening,” he finally settles on. “To see all that blood flowing so freely from you.”

Growing up with a doctor in the family and Will as his best friend, Merlin was most definitely not unaccustomed to seeing blood, but that doesn’t make it any easier seeing it leave someone he loves, even if it is over something so small as a nosebleed.

“Would you prefer I not tell you about them?” Arthur asks gently.

Merlin doesn’t even hesitate to answer, “I want to know. Of course I do. It’s just…”

“A lot?” Arthur suggests and Merlin cringes.

Arthur begins to gather Merlin in close when he whispers with somewhat abject horror, “Those clots were huge.” And then Arthur pulls him in tighter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um. It's been a day, friends.


	279. October 5th

Today is a better day for the boys and the best part, at least in Merlin’s opinion is when Arthur is leaning forward to look for a shirt in his dresser to wear to bed late a night and Foxy manages to jump from the bed onto his bum, which is apparently big enough on its own to hold the kitten up.


	280. October 6th

After a splitting headache and two coughing fits so severe that one of them causes Arthur to momentarily leave in the middle of a meeting, Arthur finds himself heading home a little earlier than usual today. When Merlin arrives home sometime after, he’s surprised to find Arthur home, but at Arthur’s insistence, he doesn’t ask about it until they have shared a quick dinner and are curled up with Foxy in bed.


	281. October 7th

“So, I made the mistake of having a sugar cookie out where Foxy could get it, and now he’s running amuck like me before my primary school teachers helped my mum discover that I had ADHD and needed to be put on meds.”

“That…”

“Also, I think he’s decided to start practicing karate with his reflection in the mirror.”


	282. October 8th

It is as if Foxy can tell that today is special, in both good ways and bad, or maybe he can tell just how sick Arthur still is as he spends all of Arthur’s time sleeping in this morning curled up in his arms. Either way, to have him so close when Arthur first wakes helps him to cope.

Today is Arthur’s birthday and the anniversary of his mother’s death.

As per his usual birthday request, Merlin leaves him to have his time to grieve and then at the drop of a hat is back to shower him in love and affection.

They spend most of their day in bed or with Merlin tending to Arthur, although most of this is due to Arthur’s continued sickness. While he can mostly breathe through his nose, there is still mucus bothering him, breathing is still an issue as his chest continues to be tight and his throat filled with mucus he keeps coughing up – with coughing in general being something of a constant for Arthur. And there had been plans, of course, but most of those are now cancelled or reworked.

“What does that mean?” Arthur asks.

A second later Merlin’s phone chimes.

“I’ll explain on the way,” Merlin says absently, herding Arthur out the door.

“On the way to what?!”

When they make it outside, they are greeted by Morgana, Leon, Gwaine, Percival, Gwen, and Lance piled up in Gwaine’s car.

“Am I going to die tonight?” Arthur asks Merlin, who just laughs.

Sighing, Arthur fits himself into the car with only minimum coughing. At least Merlin has brought him a water bottle.

“I’ve changed my mind,” Arthur coughs into his elbow. “You’re all probably going to die.”

The first stop of the night is a bread based eatery and despite knowing that he should try to consume things that will not worsen his mucus, Arthur chooses a cheesy Panini over soup.

“It’s your birthday, so I’m not going to tell you that you’re an idiot,” Morgana is so sweet to say.

Arthur blinks at her. He sniffs. Coughs. “Love you, too.” Walks away.

The next stop is the grocers where everyone picks out their own ice cream - and kitten food because “we’re running low, Merlin!” “Oh my god.” - and Arthur gets an additional helping, this time in the form of gelato and chocolate candies.

“You do realize how old you are, right?” Morgana asks him. “And it is not the age of a child?”

“I will cough on you,” Arthur threatens.

As the birthday boy, Arthur would prefer not to push the cart, but as a sicky, Arthur is more than happy to have something to lean on. It concerns Merlin somewhat, so he sticks by Arthur's side the whole time, always keeping a hand or both on him, which pleases Arthur to no end.

“What’s got you looking so smug?” Merlin asks curiously.

Arthur shrugs. 

“Wondering which one of these idiots I’m going to make pay.” He smirks, nodding at said idiots debating at the benefits of chocolate verses vanilla verses mixed chocolate and vanilla ice cream.

And finally, the last stop is the return to Merlin and Arthur’s apartment where the gang devours their ice creams - a treat that is most definitely bad for Arthur’s cold – and plays with Foxy, who seems to only want to play with Arthur, who is very smug about it… when he isn’t coughing half a lung up.

The night ends quietly after their friends leave. It’s late and Foxy curls up against Arthur and immediately falls asleep when he settles into bed. Normally, a birthday would end a little differently - with a lot less clothes, for one – but with Arthur coughing and really feeling like he just can’t make it through something strenuous, they’ve decided to just make Merlin’s birthday end a lot more intimately or to just make up for it as soon as Arthur is better.

“You know we have to see those idiots in just a few hours, right?” Arthur asks nearing midnight, moments before he finally succumbs to sleep.

“It’s still your birthday, so I won’t tell you to shut the fuck up,” Merlin tells him. “But I want to.”

“I will cough on you,” Arthur threatens, but they both know it’s an empty threat.

They’re silent for a time, waiting for sleep and just before their breathing can finally even out, Merlin presses his lips to Arthur’s forehead and whispers, “Happy birthday, my love.”

Arthur makes a gentle sound in response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've remembered that birthdays are a thing that happens and a thing that I have granted a whole bunch of our side characters, but not our main characters... also, I've been thinking about this ending at the end of the year, and how much I will miss this. Maybe next year I'll continue their story, but skip ahead a few years... or five... if you get the reference.


	283. October 9th

Today, Merlin and Arthur have Foxy test out new kitty litter. No one is really sure they like it.


	284. October 10th

Arthur rubs out Merlin’s shoulders as he hunches forward in bed, leaning deeply into the space about his laptop. Instead of chiding the brunet that he really needs to stop procrastinating on his biggest projects, Arthur bends his head down and coughs into his chest.

“Do you need some water?” Merlin asks.

“No, I have some,” Arthur tells him, then gently shuns, “Get your work done.”

Merlin grumbles, stretching out his back and trying and failing to unfold his legs without waking Foxy from his nap in Merlin’s lap.

He reaches a hand out to caress and sooth the sleepy kitty, cooing to him in soft whispers.

“Go back to sleep, little one.”

Foxy’s eyes are closed again rather quickly.

“I’m never going to get a shower in at this rate,” he informs Arthur with a sigh.

“Maybe not. But if you work nonstop, you might just get to bed by eleven, rather than midnight.”

Merlin hums forlornly.

“That would be nice.” He pauses, reads something on his screen. “I should take this out into the living room. Let you get some sleep.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

But Arthur’s rubbing has grown slower and slower and Merlin can tell he’s going to stop and fall asleep any minute now.


	285. October 11th

This evening, Arthur arrives home just as Merlin is about to leave with Foxy.

“Oh!” Merlin steps back from the opening door. “Oh! Arthur!”

“Merlin?” Arthur exclaims, equally surprised.

When Merlin does nothing but smiles widely in response, Arthur finds himself distracted for a moment. And then Merlin starts to explain.

“I’m on my way to the vet.”

“Oh!” Arthur is one again surprised, having had forgotten about Foxy’s need for a second distemper shot. It takes him a second to shake himself out of it. “How about I drive you?”

The smile stretching Merlin’s cheeks must hurt, Arthur thinks because his own smile is definitely starting to pinch a bit.


	286. October 12th

Merlin has been in somewhat of a denial over his seasonal depression acting up, but when he puts off yet another important project until last minute and he spent most of the day cracking his knuckles to keep them from fidgeting, well, he thinks it might just be time to take a look in the mirror.

Coincidentally, standing before the bathroom mirror is where Arthur finds him instead of in front of his computer, working.

Arthur coughs at the shock, distressing Merlin somewhat because it’s almost been two weeks and Arthur has already thrown up in his mouth once from coughing too hard.

“I’m fine,” Arthur gets out between coughs when Merlin goes to rub at his back.

Turning on the warm water from the tap, Arthur leans over the sink to catch some water in his mouth. After he swallows a few times and straightens back up again, mouth wet and eyes a little misty, he blinks and sniffs a little, trying to get back to the thoughts that should have hit him after his initial shock of finding Merlin had gone. It takes some time of Arthur opening staring at Merlin before he says anything, though.

“Are you fine?” he inquires carefully, choosing his words – such simple words – weightily.

Before Arthur had found him, that was more or less the same question Merlin had silently been asking his reflection.

Merlin turns back to the mirror and internally questions himself once more. As with before, he finds no answer, so instead of replying, he turns back to Arthur, burying his face in the crook of his neck so he doesn’t have to meet his eyes. With a hell of a cough, Arthur surprises Merlin by pick him up bridal style.

With a cry of shock, Merlin wraps his arms around Arthur’s shoulders.

“Arthur!”

His partner doesn’t respond, but whether that is because he doesn’t know what to say or because he’s too busy fending off a coughing fit, Merlin can’t really tell. When Arthur presses a none too gentle kiss to Merlin’s messy hair, Merlin thinks it might be a bit of both. And then when Arthur deposits them both onto the bed and turns his face into his pillow to cover a fresh round of coughing, but still pulls Merlin close, he’s pretty sure it’s definitely both.


	287. October 13th

After another bad day for Merlin and another day of coughing for Arthur and another late day for the both of them, they decide to call it an early night, order takeaway, and have Arthur try once more to put as much of Merlin’s hair as he can into a hair tie.


	288. October 14th

Arthur comes home from work to find Merlin napping in bed with Foxy curled up half under the blankets, half between Merlin’s arms. It’s been a long wrong, he mentally reasons with himself as he strips down to his briefs and slips under the covers to spoon up behind Merlin.


	289. October 15th

Merlin spends five straight hours working on a project out of guilt for procrastinating and fucking up a huge project just the other day. While is dedication is touching, it causes some alarms to go off in Arthur’s head, so he spends most of those five hours bringing Merlin tea and snacks, but most importantly, just sitting with him.


	290. October 16th

Today is Merlin and Arthur’s turn to host brunch. In preparation to get his egg-cellent scrambled egg making skills back on track, Merlin has bought a bigger frying pan, also well as done some very serious research on spices.

“Don’t you think you might be taking this a little too seriously?” Arthur asks.

“Scrambled eggs were the first thing I ever learned to make to perfection on my own. If I can’t even do that right, then what hope do I have at being able to do anything else?”

And maybe he’s exaggerating a little; his eggs have most definitely improved within the last few months after the near year-long dry spell where practically ever batch of scrambled eggs he made would end up in the bin. Then there was the entire three months he refused to let himself and Arthur host brunch when his meal was so bad that even Morgana had started treating him with sympathy.

Arthur sighs and pulls Merlin in by the hip.

“I won’t pretend to understand whatever it is that this means to you, but alright.”

With a squeeze to Merlin’s hip and press of lips to Merlin’s forehead, Arthur soon lets go and lets Merlin get back to contemplating their spice cabinet.


	291. October 17th

After Merlin’s old psychiatrist had changed their office so that they could take on less patients and less hours as they draw closer to retirement, Merlin had to look for a new doctor that would take his insurance. Today is the day he meets his new psychiatrist.

It doesn’t exactly go over as well as Merlin had hoped.

“With my history, she doesn’t feel comfortable prescribing me my meds without me also seeing a therapist on the side,” he relays to Arthur. “She also doesn’t like the medication I’m on, and I think she plans to try to take me off them. I mean, I could be wrong, but she is prescribing me to a new medication and really discouraging that last one Alator had put me on, which apparently, according to Drea’s research on the internet, shouldn’t be working the way Alator had thought it was supposed to, and in the long run might actually be fairly off the mark from the type of treatment I need to help accommodate my particular illnesses. 

“Anyways, she’s going to give me refills, nonetheless, changing my last med a bit, and, like I said, adding another. Oh, and I called to arrange for a therapist, but no one answered, so I’ve left my number. 

“But other than that, my day just keeps going. I feel like I haven’t stopped, and I still have to prepare a presentation for tomorrow. And the more I keep ranting this at you, the more I hoping a new therapist for the first time in years, if anything, maybe they can teach me how to shut the fuck up.” 

It takes a few moments of silence for Arthur to response. In that time, Merlin has just long enough to think back on what he’s said and how he’s said it, and cringe.

“You really have an issue with it, don’t you?”

Merlin starts to bite the inside of his cheek, only for his jaw to start aching, causing him to release the years old scared skin.

“I’m used to changing meds. Something she seems to think was absolutely absurd, hearing I’ve been on so many. But the therapy…” He stops, shakes his head. “I know people say that accepting therapy doesn’t mean admitting defeat, but it feels like it. Like I need help.”

“It’s okay to need help.”

“But I didn’t feel helpless,” Merlin stresses.

And when he meets Arthur’s eyes, he’s struck by the passing thought of whom he’s really trying to convince that of. Merlin has to close his eyes and turn away at that thought. 

“Merlin-“

Whatever Arthur plans to say next to cut off at the sound of tiny little cat claws scratching at denim as Foxy climbs his way up Merlin’s jean-clad leg.

Opening his eyes, Merlin reaches out to pry Foxy off of him before he can reach somewhere a little more sensitive higher up Merlin’s body.

“Are we not paying enough attention to, mon petit?”

As if in response, Foxy wraps himself around Merlin’s hand, mouthing at his fingers.

“Merlin.”

The way Arthur says his name, so gentle, yet so stern, has Merlin meeting Arthur’s eyes again, no longer distracted in the least. Even Foxy takes a momentary pause from his little game.

Something must show on Merlin’s face because the lines on Arthurs smooth out, his eyes going just as soft as his voice as he continues to speak.

“Would it really be that horrible to give therapy a try?”

It’s the very same question Merlin has been asking himself all day.

In a very small voice, and without meeting Arthur’s eyes, Merlin reminds him, “I left a message to make an appointment, didn’t I?”

Arthur rubs what Merlin is sure Arthur thinks is a soothing hand between Merlin’s shoulder.

“I’m proud.”

Merlin wonders how soon he can switch their discussion to Arthur’s day without being too obvious about it.


	292. October 18th

Watching Foxy lick his front paws clean, Arthur wonders aloud, “We’re going to have children one day. Maybe babies, even. Hopefully. Children and babies we’re going to have to give baths to. Itty bitty bubble baths for our itty bitty children and babies.”

Thumbing at his engagement ring, Merlin admits to having already had these thoughts. “We’ll give them bath toys. And those weird bath paints or crayons, or whatever, where they can draw on the tub and wash it out after they’ve washed themselves. And it’ll probably be so cute when they first try them, but a pain in the arse as soon as bath time is over and we have to scrub it clean. And then there’s having them bathe together if they’re close in age, which I’m sure they’ll love until one of them gets too big, and when they do get too big for bath time, we’ll probably be the ones crying about it.”


	293. October 19th

Merlin laughs so hard that he almost chokes when Foxy attempts to steal one of Arthur’s favorite ties to use as a toy this morning.


	294. October 20th

After a long day, and what feels like an even longer drive home (which takes him an hour and a half because of traffic), Arthur is eternally grateful to come home to Merlin and Foxy curled up in bed, waiting for him.


	295. October 21st

“It never leaves my mind that I love you, but sometimes I’ll look at you – or just be thinking of you, even – and it’ll really hit me; remembering where so much of that love comes from.”


	296. October 22nd

From a bloody nose caused by a laugh so hard it turns to a cough and then the nosebleed, to a call from Arthur’s uncle, and from having to overhear the upstairs neighbor fight for about two hours to nearly losing their own cool, it’s not Merlin and Arthur’s best day.


	297. October 23rd

“Hey, watch this,” Merlin tells Arthur from across the couch where Foxy is attacking his hand.

Said cat has wrapped himself around Merlin’s hand and he is play biting at Merlin’s fingers. That is, he is biting until Merlin lifts him into the air, and then he starts giving Merlin’s fingers little kitten lick kisses.

Silently, Merlin smirks when he meets Arthur’s eye.

“He’s just going to go back to playing when you put him down, though, won’t he?”

The smirk falters, but Merlin recovers with an eye roll.

“Okay, but it’s cute while it lasts.” 

“Is this the part where I tell you that you’re cute?” 

Merlin laughs. “What? While I last?”

Chortling, Arthur asks, “What does that even mean?”

“Until the zombie apocalypse.” Arthur might be able to take Merlin more seriously if he wasn’t laughing at his own worlds. “Which I obviously will be shit at surviving.”

“Well, at least we both agree on something,” Arthur tells him straight faced, but then he breaks out into a snorting laugh when Merlin smacks him with a couch pillow.


	298. October 24th

“Do you-“ Arthur pauses with a line between his brows and frown tugging at the corners of his lips. “Is that a thing? To talk about therapy? Do you- is that something you want to do?”

Merlin pulls his hands away from his mouth, floss pulled taunt between his pointer fingers. They’ve already talked about Arthur’s day and Merlin had thought he had provided enough small talk about his own day to keep Arthur from remembering that Merlin had his first therapy appointment in years today.

“Talk to you about therapy?”

Arthur’s frown distracts Merlin for a second before he manages to look away and meet his partner’s eye in their bathroom mirror.

“Yes. If you want.”

Meeting his own eyes in the mirror, Merlin thinks the offer over. He runs his tongue over the front of his top row of teeth as he thinks. He grimaces.

“Can I finish with my teeth first?” 

“Sure.”

If Merlin is a little more precautious with what is slowly becoming part of his nightly routine, no one really needs to know about it, and for all the clenching of his teeth he’s done lately, it might be in his best benefit, anyways.

After he throws his used floss away, he starts by saying, “My new psychiatrist doesn’t like what my old psychiatrist had me on; coincidently, my new therapist doesn’t like what my new psychiatrist has me on,” but stops there, grabbing his toothbrush.

Arthur waits patiently, silently, as Merlin brushes.

Merlin spits; wipes his mouth. He turns, leans against the sink and crosses his arms over his chest, not meeting Arthur’s eye.

It will all come out eventually, Merlin figures, so he might as well just bite the bullet now and get it all out while he’s still processing.

“The new psychiatrist thanked me for making a therapy appointment. The new therapist said I could end the appointments when I feel I need to and she apologized for what I’ve been through. It’s uncomfortable and confusing. I don’t know what to feel right now, but speaking of- I had some shit side effects from the new medication today, which concerned Finna, the therapist, which just freaked me out more. And now, whichever higher up Drea went to about my meds in the first place had his secretary cancel some of his appointments so that he could meet with me and Drea when I’m scheduled to see her on Monday. Because apparently this is a concern.”

Scrunching up his nose in displeasure with himself, Merlin remembers what he had told himself this morning when he had first started assuming what he had been feeling might have been side effects he should talk about: try being more honest with yourself; trust that you know what you need.

He sighs, closing his eyes and lifting a hand to rub at the spot between his brows.

“Or, no, actually. I know this is a concern. But I’ve been through so many medications, Arthur, and I’m just so tired of all this.”

When his hand is pulled away from his face, Merlin opens his eyes to catch Arthur’s chin and lips in his view for a split second before he feels said lips on his forehead.

He closes his eyes and sighs once more.

Too soon, he feels Arthur’s lips pull away, but he replaces them with his own forehead pressed warmly to Merlin’s. Merlin’s hand, still cradled in one of Arthur’s own flexes of its own accord with a nail catching on Arthur’s engagement ring.

“How can I help you?” Arthur whispers lowly.

Running his finger over the ring, Merlin gives Arthur the only answer he can bring himself to be confident about despite his insecurities.

“Take me to bed.”


	299. October 25th

When Arthur has to stay late at work for an important but late meeting, Merlin brings him dinner that they share, curled up on the couch in Arthur's office.


	300. October 26th

As of late, whenever Foxy deems it playtime – because only he can do that, apparently – he will pick up a either beanie baby cat or a beanie baby dog in his mouth, as if scruffing it, and carry it around until he can place it in either of his owners’ laps so that they know to pick it up and pretend to use it as a sort of puppet for Foxy to play-attack. Or, whenever Merlin or Arthur are too preoccupied to play with Foxy, he will pick up either the cat or the dog in his mouth, then proceed to jump off of the bed with it, essentially throwing it to the ground for him to pounce on. Neither Merlin nor Arthur can quite figure out why their kitten does this, but it mortifies them to no end some days, such as it has today.


	301. October 27th

Arthur, arriving home late, curls himself around Merlin because it has been a bad day and a long week and it is not even over yet, and he just really needs some physical contact for a while as he lets his mind go numb for a bit.


	302. October 28th

Date night gets a little weird when Leon calls, sheepishly explaining that he's lost his keys and he and Morgana are stuck on their own date.


	303. October 29th

With some downtime, the boys decide to spend their day doing more research on kittens. First, they start with boxes. According to the internet, cats love boxes. And so, to test this theory for themselves, Merlin and Arthur dig through their offices until they kind two small cardboard boxes, which they leave on the floor for Foxy to explore.

Jumping from inside one to inside another, it turns out that Foxy loves boxes.

Next, they look into cat litter (not for the first time, let it be noted) because they still can’t decide on one particular product, although they have been favoring the baking soda infused litter over others.

This one research project might need to be returned to at a later date.

Starting to run low on kitty treats, Merlin and Arthur then scavenge the internet for human foods that are safe and supposedly even relatively healthy to reward Foxy with. So far, dehydrated sweet potato cut crisps seem to be Foxy’s favorite.

As it apparently turns out, Merlin and Arthur discover quite the appreciation for the snack, as well.

++

At night, Merlin and Arthur join their usual group of friends, alongside Will and Freya, much to Merlin’s surprise and joy, for a Halloween-themed pub quiz. They consider themselves rather lucky that Will and Freya have been able to join them, because out of the whole gang, their only Halloween expert is Morgana, as it is her favorite holiday, after all (which is exactly the reason that Leon had proposed to her on last year’s Halloween.)

Their group ties for first place until they win the tie breaker, but give up their prize to the couple they had tied with when they learn that this is their first date – on the one condition that they still get the title and glory because Morgana, Will, and Freya are competitive and egotistical when it comes to their extensive knowledge about horror, gore, and all the like.


	304. October 30th

"Do you ever worry about the future? Our future?"

"Yes."

"How do you cope with it?"

"I hold you to me a little tighter than usual try to remind myself that we have made it this far."


	305. October 31st

“Two months, love, and we’re married.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry. I don't know where my head has been lately, but it certainly hasn't been anywhere my muses can reach.


	306. November 1st

“Oh, yay,” Merlin intones. “Yet another new medication that could lower my sex drive to the point of being in danger of becoming extinct.”

Arthur listens dutifully to Merlin’s little rants and thoughts here or there in between reading the warning sheet for his new prescription and writing notes in his psychiatry/therapy journal he has taken to keeping.

“And.” Merlin scrunches up his nose, tilting his head to the side just the slightest. “Bleeding,” he enunciates slowly.

“What kind of bleeding?” Arthur asks, worryingly.

“Just…” Merlin flaps a hand around. “Bleeding.”

“Are you sure you’re going to like this place?” 

Merlin looks up from his journal, where he has just placed ‘irritable’ as one of his moods for the day.

“I don’t really have many other options. It’s not like the flower arrangements for our wedding where we have lots to pick from and be able to mix and match. And as much as it seems like medication is like that,” he flips to a previous paper filled out all the way to the last line of medications he can remember being on, “accessibility to them is not.”

It makes Arthur a little anxious when Merlin starts to fidget with his engagement ring.

“And I need- want-“ 

This is still a constant struggle for Merlin, Arthur knows, trying to figure out his true needs verses his true wants.

“I want,” Merlin expresses slowly. “To get better.”

That is one struggle Arthur can help with, reminding Merlin that it is important to get better, rather than be better. At least with that, Arthur knows he is not entirely helpless when it comes to helping his partner.


	307. November 2nd

In a wild turn of events, after listening to Merlin vent his irritabilities of the day away, Arthur is the one to pull out his laptop and make a few special purchases.


	308. November 3rd

“Hey,” Merlin barely whispers, sleep deprived yet unable to rest.

“Hey,” he tries again when Arthur gives no response.

Turning onto his side, Merlin presses his face up against Arthur’s.

“Hey.”

This time, Arthur weakly grunts.

After coaxing a slack kiss off Arthur’s soft lips, Merlin tries one more time.

“Hey.”

Then he kisses him again.

Making a faint sound, Arthur half cracks open one eye, which flutters closed and then opens once more when Merlin reaches out to card his fingers loosely through Arthur’s hair.

“You’re so beautiful,” breathes Merlin just before his own eyes slip shut.


	309. November 4th

It takes a while longer than Merlin is happy to admit to realize something is off. He hadn’t noticed at first when the sounds of typing of two keyboards switched to the sounds of only one, but when he does, regret burns in his throat like acid.

“Come on.”

Arthur doesn’t look up in response to Merlin’s softly spoken words.

“Arthur,” Merlin tries again, this time shutting Arthur’s laptop closed as he does.

This time Arthur does look up at Merlin, but his eyes are distant, as if he isn’t really seeing his partner. That is, until Merlin takes their laptops away, placing them safely on his bedside table. Arthur seems to slowly shake himself out of his head a bit, then, his gaze focusing more, but he stays silent.

Turning back to the blond, Merlin asks, “Are you okay?”

It takes Arthur a second, but eventually he nods.

“Are you sure?”

Closing his eyes, Arthur presses his face into the side of Merlin’s neck and mutters, “Let’s go to bed.”


	310. November 5th

Merlin and Arthur spend their day helping Hunith do some yard work and house repairs, and their night treating her to dinner.


	311. November 6th

“So, what song were you two thinking of use for your first dance as a married couple,” Morgana asks over brunch.

“Actually, we were just going to use yours-“

“-The Piña Colada song.”

Tilting his head back, Arthur lets out a near shout of a laugh.

Wheezing somewhat, he exclaims, “That would be even worse!”

Merlin begins to chuckle as Leon tries to tell them that hey, their song wasn’t that bad.

“Alright, you arseholes. Very funny.” Morgana tries to throw her napkin at Arthur and rolls her eyes when he catches it. “But, seriously. What’s your song?”

Slowly, Merlin and Arthur turn to each other and then back to Morgana, expressions sheepish.

“We haven’t been able to come to an agreement yet,” they admit.

From the other end of the table, Gwaine calls out, “In that case, I change my bet. Whatever the hell song they pick – I don’t realty care at this point – I bet they don’t even decide until the day of the wedding.”

“Is it too late to call George and tell him to remove one place setting?” Merlin asks Arthur.

As Gwaine squawks in offense, Arthur makes a contemplative face for a moment, then shakes his head before regretfully informing Merlin, “That would make it an odd number of guests and George insists we have an even amount.”

Gwaine begins to hurrah over this, when Merlin suggests, “We could always invite a neighbor to take his place.”

“If there wasn’t an open bar, I’d say I hate the two of you.”

“Let’s invite three neighbors to fill his place.”


	312. November 7th

“Baby?” Arthur murmurs.

“Mm?” Merlin hums absentmindedly.

Picking up the cap to Merlin’s highlighter and then plucking the pen from his fingers to close it, Arthur tries to coax Merlin into following his lead.

“C’mon. It’s late and we’ve had a long day. Let’s go to sleep.”

“I’m so tired,” Merlin whispers, closing his eyes.

Putting an arm around his partner, Arthur gently helps guide Merlin to his feet.

“I know, baby.”


	313. November 8th

“Did you order something?” 

“What?”

Turning the key in the ignition of his car, Merlin asks over speakerphone once more, “Did you order something? A package came for you.”

“Did you open it?” Arthur asks a little too quickly.

“No, I had to rush in to get Foxy to take him to the vet. Didn’t have any time to open mail, just to pick it up.”

“Good,” Arthur says brightly. “Don’t open it if you get home before me.”

“What is it?” Merlin says, now skeptical.

“Sorry, I’ve got to go, love. I’ll see you at home!”

"Arthur-"

Merlin replaces the sound of the call ending with his new mantra that, "I must not open it. I must not open it. I must not open it." But that is quickly replaced by the sound of Foxy meowing when the GPS takes them onto a bumpy road.

It's going to be a long day.


	314. November 9th

Not having been the best day for neither Arthur nor Merlin, they call it an early night and spend a few quiet hours before their usual time in bed curled up together, keeping one another warm and stable as the rain drums on outside their window and as Foxy attempts to drag every last one of his toys up onto the bed.


	315. November 10th

Tired after a long day of work and what felt like an even longer night going over wedding details with Arthur and George, Merlin wastes no time getting himself and Arthur into bed as soon as they're home. Pillows fluffed how Merlin likes them, blanket already pulled up to his shoulders, he waits until Arthur finishes settling himself in before pressing himself snug against him, wrapping an arm around Arthur's waist and burying his face into his chest, snuggling his head right up underneath the blond's chin. Only minutes later Merlin feels Foxy curl up against his own back.


	316. November 11th

The last thing Merlin hears before he falls asleep is Arthur murmuring lowly, "My uncle wants me to visit him tomorrow."


	317. November 12th

Today, Arthur, Merlin, and Gaius go to visit Arthur’s uncle. Whereas Merlin would usually be the one to talk about absolutely nothing during an entirely stressful drive, Arthur finds himself being the one to do so while Merlin sits quiet but attentive beside him in the passenger seat. By the time they arrive, pulling in next to Gaius’ car, all the energy and stress suddenly drain from Arthur, leaving him tired and a little broody. When his uncle goes to hug him, he tenses up before only offering an awkward one-handed pat on the back. The only thing that keeps Arthur sane and awake enough to make it through the two-hour visit in one piece is Merlin’s constantly reassuring presence at his side.

“This week just doesn’t feel real. Today especially,” he thinks aloud on the drive home.

Merlin keeps a steady hand on Arthur's thigh for the rest of the drive.


	318. November 13th

Merlin’s usual telltale sign that he’s having trouble either expressing himself or dealing with his emotions is that he keeps silent for long periods of time. Arthur has a number of telltale signs, none of which being his ‘usual.’ Today, his sign is only being able to converse through sass, sarcasm, and comebacks. If anyone notices anything off at brunch, they don’t stay anything, instead letting Arthur do what he needs to do.


	319. November 14th

"You know," Arthur confides in Merlin. "I remember a time when I thought there was no way in hell that you could ever love me."

And Merlin wants to say something stupid, like, "Are you talking to me or the cat?" but he doesn't because he remembers a time when he thought there was no way in hell that Arthur could ever love him. So, instead, he kisses Arthur until they're breathless and one track minded and can't remember anything but the feel of the other's body surrounding them.


	320. November 15th

"Do you ever think about the fact that we're willing letting Morgana and Will plan our joint bachelor party while also taking words that come out of Gwaine's mouth into serious consideration?"


	321. November 16th

When Arthur almost collapses from a sudden pain in his side when he stretches too far to reach something, Merlin gathers him into bed, pain relief and water on the bedside table, Foxy curled up in Arthur's arms, and Merlin rubbing soothingly at his lover's side.


	322. November 17th

"Baby," Arthur whispers in the late hours of the night when he can't sleep.

"Mm?"

"We're going to have a baby one day," Arthur says softly.

"You know that's not how our bodies work, right?" Merlin asks, tired and wondering where Arthur is going with this.

"There are other ways we can have a baby. Or babies. Oh god, we're going to have babies one day." There's a pause before Arthur continues, "Not multiple babies at once, of course, like twins or something. We're good, but not that good."

"Oh, I don't know," Merlin muses, curling closer into the warmth of Arthur's body when he pauses to yawn. "Mm, I quite think I'd like to see you with a baby on each hip."

It's quiet for a while, and Merlin wonders if maybe Arthur has fallen asleep, knowing he's very close to it himself, until, at last, Arthur mumbles, "Maybe they can be close in age, then," before wrapping an arm around Merlin's waist, signalling that he's about to finally fall asleep sleep and Merlin do so, as well.

"Maybe."


	323. November 18th

Just a handful of minutes before midnight, Arthur attempts to wake Merlin up. After only responding with faint grunts, Arthur nearly kicks him out of bed.

"M'tired."

"What do you want to do for your birthday tomorrow?" Arthur asks.

"Sleep, then fuckin' murder your arse."

"That's a very specific part of me to murder."

And then Merlin rolls completely on top of Arthur, refusing to get up until he eventually falls back to sleep.


	324. November 19th

Arthur serving Merlin breakfast in bed after a nice, long lie in is only the start of Merlin’s birthday celebrations. Following a peaceful drive through the countryside and a stop at a charming little park for a picnic lunch, they then spend the rest of the day in Ealdor with Hunith, Gaius, and Alice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really need to get over this writer's block with these two...


	325. November 20th

Yesterday was the last warm day of the season, even being good enough for Merlin’s birthday picnic lunch. Today, however…

“What-“ Arthur starts to ask when Merlin freezes upon his first step outside.

“It’s going to snow,” Merlin cuts in, disgusted. “I can feel it.”

Grabbing Merlin firmly by the waist, Arthur carefully maneuvers Merlin to the car while gently reassuring him that it will not snow while they are out to brunch.

“You don’t know that.”

“But the weather app does.”


	326. November 21st

"What if we got another cat?"

"No."

"A dog?"

"No."

"A fish?"

"Why."

"You're right, good point. How about a-"

"I'm walking away now."


	327. November 22nd

Today, Arthur and Merlin find out the hard way that despite spending the first six or so weeks of his life growing up around other cats, Foxy does not actually like being around other cats and is apparently aggressively territorial over his two human owners.


	328. November 23rd

"You know how Morgana and Will are taking Gwaine's suggestions for our bachelor party into serious consideration?"

"Yeah?"

"I passed by them at work today and the only words I caught from Gwaine were 'chocolate' and 'body paint' and what sounded like noises of approval from Morgana and Will."


	329. November 24th

On not quite a whim, after spending the day listening to Arthur whine via text and call about the heater breaking in his office, Merlin purchases a heated blanket. Foxy finds it the best thing brought home since Gaius gave him over. 

"You're so wonderful to me," Arthur openly admits.

"Because I love you," Merlin responds tiredly, dreamily.

"I love you, too."

Merlin hums a sweet, low sounding noise, drowsing on the cusp of sleep.

"And," Arthur whispers, slurring words relaying just how close to sleep he is, too, "I'll show you just how much tomorrow. On our date night."

With a kiss to his forehead, Merlin falls right to sleep, hopes for tomorrow bringing him his last waking moment of the night in peace.


	330. November 25th

Merlin comes home from work to find Arthur busy in the kitchen. Having not been noticed, Merlin takes the opportunity to observe his future husband silently for a few minutes before sneaking up on him, wrapping his arms around Arthur’s waist.

Humming, Arthur leans back into Merlin’s embrace, raising one hand to stroke at Merlin’s arms for a time.

After a kiss to Arthur’s neck, Merlin asks, “What are we doing for date night?”

“First off, it’s more than a night.”

Merlin makes an inquiring noise.

“Do you remember our first stay-in date night?”

Merlin thinks about that for a second.

“You mea the first unintentional stay-in date, or the first intentional stay-in date?”

“Unintentional.”

“Mm.”

It was a planned weekend long date, filled with planned activities, starting with classic, cheesy datey dates on Friday and ending with staying inside the entire weekend because of an unexpected snowstorm.

“We’re going to do the food tonight and…” he trails off for a moment. “Let’s just say I have a surprise for you tomorrow.”


	331. November 26th

To continue the weekend long date, Merlin and Arthur spend the morning rearranging the furniture in their living room to create enough space to dance. Then for lunch, they lay out blankets and food to have a picnic. After clean up, Arthur sprawls outs so Merlin can use his body as a canvas for a new painting.

"This was wonderful."

"It's not over yet. There's still tomorrow."


	332. November 27th

On the Sunday of their first stay-in date, the first time they went outside was when Arthur had brought Merlin to brunch with Uther, Morgana, and Leon. To continue this, Merlin and Arthur go to brunch with their friends, as per their usual Sunday routine. And like that day years ago, Arthur spends the entire meal sending Merlin naughty picture, whispering dirty things into his ears, and touching Merlin as inappropriately as Arthur can get away with in such an intimate setting. Much like that day years ago, it drives Merlin insane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to write smut today, but I just don't have it in me. I haven't felt anything lately. I need this writer's block to go away.


	333. November 28th

When Merlin has to stay far too late at work to work on an important presentation, Arthur decides to surprise him by dropping over with takeaway.


	334. November 29th

"You're shaking."

"Hmm?"

Taking a glance at his hand, Merlin finds what Arthur says to be true.

"Oh. Yeah, I think it's the meds. I've changed my appointment to Thursday because I've really got to get off them.

"Are you..." Arthur starts tentatively. "Can I help in any way?"

From the foot of the bed, Foxy seems to make a curious sound at Merlin's silence.

"Help me get some sleep?"


	335. November 30th

"Hey."

Merlin nudges Arthur where he lies half asleep on their bed.

"Mm?"

"We only have one month of our engagement left."

Arthur smiles, his eyes still closed, and Merlin thinks he's going to say something sweet.

"Can't wait to see you in your white dress."

Attempting to push a now laughing and more awake Arthur off the bed, Merlin informs him, "That's it, I'm ready for a divorce."


	336. December 1st

After very little sleep due to constant waking in the night, Merlin isn't all that surprised to find himself in a bad enough mood to speak a little too honestly to some of the coworkers he dislikes the most. However, after almost snapping at Arthur, he goes silent and attempts to isolate himself to think things over. By the time they're ready for bed, Merlin tries to make it up to Arthur with wordless affection and overtly giving him a great deal of space.


	337. December 2nd

This morning, Arthur wakes to the sight up Merlin cradling Foxy against his chest as he slowly sways back and forth. For a few minutes, he just watches and listening to mingling sounds of Foxy purring and Merlin humming.


	338. December 3rd

As they have done individually and together with all of Merlin's past medications he has been prescribed on since they had started their relationship, Merlin and Arthur research Merlin's new medicine. It is only Merlin's second day on it, but Arthur still maintains that he keep a watchful eye on his partner. For a while, Arthur had thought Merlin was doing fairly decent on the medication he had called for an earlier doctor's appointment to be allowed to get off of, but after listening to Merlin explain just why he needed (not wanted, but needed) to do so, it put some of Merlin's antics and behaviors from the past few weeks into perspective.

"I wish you had talked to me more about how you were feeling."

It is a painful thing to admit to Merlin, let alone to himself.

"That's just the thing," Merlin tries to explain, "It was sometimes like I wasn't feeling anything. Or that it wasn't really me and those weren't really my feelings, so it was like I had no feelings to express."

Arthur tries to process this, to take it in and see it from Merlin's point of view. Merlin had been on medications like this before, its "sister meds," as Merlin refers to them as, and the side effects had been similar, but they had not progressed this gravely at such a speed as the medication Merlin is now off of had.

"How are you feeling now?" Arthur asks, not sure if the new prescription has really had any chance to kick in with only two days time.

"Well," Merlin voices with a faux air of lightness. "I'm definitely feeling."


	339. December 4th

Doubled over leaning into the shower stall, Arthur scrubs rigorously at the blood on the walls. Having been a while since the last nosebleed, this one took Arthur by a bit more surprise than usual. However, this also made him a lot more exasperated than usual.

At the sound of faint groaning, Arthur looks up from his task to discover Merlin crouching beside him with a cloth in one hand. With only a jerky nod of acknowledgment, Merlin gets to work scrubbing down the shower. Not knowing what to say, Arthur goes back to doing the same.

It does not take long for the men to get their pearly white stall back to its normally squeaky clean state.

Not yet a word said between them, Arthur grasps for anything to say. When he finally thinks he might have something - asking about who wants to be the driver for today's brunch outing - the feel of something gooey and solid slides its way all too smoothly down the back of his throat and into his mouth. Concerned and confused, Arthur is quick to spit it out into the shower drain.

Upon the sight of the coin-sized blood clot Arthur was apparently unable to blow out of his nose, all he can do is gawk. Merlin, on the other hand, startles himself into a laughing fit. After a few dumbfounded seconds, Arthur joins him with some nervous chuckling of his own.

"So, I guess this is the sort of engaged couple we're going to be, then," Merlin muses once he has settled down.

"What do you mean?" Arthur asks dubiously.

"Each a complete mess during the entire last month with hardly a moment of peace until we've checked into our hotel on the honeymoon."

Arthur thinks on this for a moment, but what comes out in response is, "That was a mouthful."

Raising an eyebrow and pointing to the bloody blob in the drain, Merlin retorts, "Not as bad as yours, though."

"Touche."


	340. December 5th

Merlin's head resting on Arthur's stomach, the blond reaches out to tangle his fingers in the brunet's messy hair, noticing just how long and wild it has grown after months without a cut or trim.

"Sometimes, I think about shaving it all off," Merlin murmurs against Arthur's jumper, seemingly have read his mind. "Other times, I feel like just letting it all grow out until I'm at the point of nearly ripping it all out from the frustration of it being too much."

"I like the length it's getting to. I haven't seen your hair this long in years."

"If I'm being honest, I have no idea what I'm doing."


	341. December 6th

Though it has been a long day for the both of them, it has not been all that bad for either of them. So, when Arthur comes home with three boxes of biscuits, Merlin is suspicious.

"What is it?" he asks tentatively, worryingly.

"Oh, these aren't for me," Arthur assures him, but this only confuses Merlin.

Most likely able to see the misunderstanding written across the brunet's face, Arthur looks to the windows across the apartment, then quickly back again to Merlin. When Merlin still does not catch him, Arthur repeats this again until it finally hits him.

"No. Please, no," Merlin pleads, pulling out his phone to check the weather app, but it is to no use.

"It's supposed to snow through the night. Should be starting soon."

Merlin sighs. "If this is how the rest of the month is going to look, I almost regret not choosing somewhere warm for the honeymoon."

"You say that as if you think we'll be spending most of our time outside."

At least that gets Merlin to smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As been pointed out a few times, all weather reports in this fic are based on my location in North Eastern America. I probably should have started looking into the weather of a specific U.K. at the beginning of the year (wow, is it really almost the end?), but I've got to cope with my snow/ice hatred somehow.


	342. December 7th

Merlin makes Arthur a stuffed animal moose during his break when Gwen points out the little station in the building they're attending a meeting at.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I made a stuffed animal moose today because college.


	343. December 8th

Because both Merlin and Arthur have had a terrible day, and because they feel bad about neutering Foxy tomorrow, the boys spend the night treating their kitten to playtime and snuggles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My inspiration and motivation for writing is like Cotton Eye Joe. Where did it come from? Where did it go?


	344. December 9th

To make sure Merlin doesn't stress too much while driving in a light snow shower to drop Foxy off at the vet, Arthur calls him as soon as their get into their separate cars to drive their separate ways and has Merlin put him on speakerphone. Like every other vet appointment they've taken him to, Foxy cries out until Merlin sticks his fingers through the door of the cat carrier and sings along to the radio. For a couple of the songs, Arthur even joins in.


	345. December 10th

The morning is spent cuddling up to Foxy in apology for his neutering yesterday. The afternoon is spent helping out at Hunith's house. The night is spent watching holiday bake-off events.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THERE IS SO MUCH I WANT TO WRITE, AND NONE OF IT WILL COME OUT.


	346. December 11th

Today, Merlin and Arthur get to pick the food themes for brunch. However, Arthur wants meat while Merlin wants chocolate.


	347. December 12th

When he needs to make room for more storage on his laptop, Merlin decides to let Arthur help him decide what to keep and what to delete. This ends up being one of the worst decisions Merlin has ever made because apparently past him had kept some pretty embarrassing things saved on the laptop to torment a future Merlin at a later date- in this case, this Merlin of today.


	348. December 13th

Today, Arthur and Merlin's biggest personal task is to work on their vows. To do so, Merlin tries to go back and read as many of the pieces he's ever written on Arthur can he can manage to find. As for Arthur, he does something a little different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I haven't actually written much about the wedding arrangements and with the date closing in (because of course I just had to pick the last day of the year...), I've been going back and rereading this story, trying to remember why I started this in the first place, and why I want to try again next year. Because yes, next year I very much want to write another year-long look into Merlin and Arthur's relationship, but fast-forwarded five years, when they're married, living in a house, and have two beautiful daughters. I know I haven't written many long entries, but this story has become something special to me. I have no idea how this story will end; I try not to plot any particular day at all, ever, and instead, waiting for each new day and plot the chapter for that day on that day. But, I hope on New Year's Eve that I give my all to their wedding. And maybe, just maybe, I will come up with their vows.
> 
> I know there are only a few days left, and I said I don't plan, but there is one particular smut scene that I want to write before the year is out. In a way, I haven't exactly planned it, as I don't know what will happen or how. All I have is lacy red lingerie to be used as a promised plot point. So, hopefully, that's something to look forward to. Other than that, their date night, the last Friday of the month, is the day before their wedding, so, we'll just have to wait and see about that one because I want to try and keep the whole "no seeing the groom until the wedding" thing. And there is also the bachelor party that needs to happen eventually........... For those of you that have been reading from the beginning, I'm sure you've realized by now, from all of Merlin's last minute assignments, that I... well. 
> 
> Anyways. Again, I know there are only a few days left, but I am open to suggestions if there's anything that any of you desire to learn about the boys.
> 
> (Btw, there are so many mistakes that need to be edited throughout this entire story, but that will have to wait.) 
> 
> Lastly, I'll keep this brief because I want to write up a big thank you writer's note at the end of this fic and talk about the year-long fic 5 years ahead I'm hoping to start January first (feel free to ask me anytime about it, though, as it might help me to actually stick with a firm "yes" to writing it.) But... For those of you that have stuck by from the beginning, thank you. For those of you newly joined and thinking of sticking around for the next 2 1/2 weeks, thank you, as well.


	349. December 14th

It is such a long day for both Merlin and Arthur that when they come home to Foxy making a mess of their curtains, they can't even be bothered to attempt to stop him.


	350. December 15th

“Do you believe in soulmates?”

Using the mirror before him to catch his partner’s eye from behind him, he answers with a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been a bad day for me, so I gift you the opportunity to imagine whichever one of the boys you want asking the question, and whichever one of the boys you want smiling in response.


	351. December 16th

Tonight, the gang gathers for drunk gingerbread house building.

“No, no, no, n- Ahhhhhhh!!”

Merlin chokes from laughing so hard when Gwaine faceplants, crashing his head into his caved in cookie catastrophe of a collapsed house.

“That’s what you get for eating most of the frosting,” Gwen tells him from across the table where her house is coming along absolutely beautifully.

Gwaine, face still squished into his disaster, but a distinct crunching and chewing noise coming from his direction, raises both his middle fingers in Gwen’s direction.

“Ow!” Arthur cries out from another part of the table. “Stop hitting me!”

“Stop stealing all my damn gumdrops!” Morgana smacks his arm again.

“No one likes fucking gumdrops,” Merlin says from behind his wineglass.

Morgana and Arthur forego fighting over the candies and decide to team up and throw every last unused gumdrop at Merlin, instead.


	352. December 17th

“No, wait, you have to-“

“Don’t, it-“

“You can’t put it in there.”

“Why not?”

Taking one of the two ends of the string of lights from Arthur, the one that doesn’t plug into anything, Merlin climbs up the stepstool and starts to wind the cord around the Christmas tree. When the string is about to run out, Arthur’s hand reaching out towards Merlin, the brunet takes hold of the end and points to the open box on the couch. Dutifully, Arthur starts to uncoil another set of lights.

“And now you give me the non-plug end, so I can plug my end in. And then, when all the lights are done, we plug the last plug into the wall.”

“Ah.” Arthur nods, now understanding why Merlin didn’t want to wrap the plug end around the tree first.

“Looking lovely, boys,” Hunith encourages them as she enters her living room. “Thanks again for all your help.”

“Don’t even worry about it, mum,” Merlin waves her off from where he’s pretending that it’s all him carefully balancing on the stepstool, and not Arthur’s hands on his hips keeping him steady.

“What he means to say,” Arthur butts in, “Is that we’re always happy to help.”

“Trying to kiss up to your mother-in-law early, are you?” Merlin leans down to whisper in Arthur’s ear.

When Hunith isn’t looking, Arthur swats at Merlin’s arse with his end of the string of lights.


	353. December 18th

Merlin and Arthur spend their morning cleaning every single one of Foxy’s designated areas around the flat. To show his great appreciation for this, the kitten gives his thanks in cuddles and kisses. To further share their affections, and because they have time to kill, the boys turns on music and gently dance- although it’s more like rocking a baby- Foxy around the bedroom.

For brunch, the gang gathers for pancakes and holiday treat making.


	354. December 19th

Foxy notices Arthur within only moments of the blond waking up. Making chirp-like happy noises, the kitten gets up from his carefully tucked in position on the windowsill and makes his way for Arthur. As soon as he reaches his human's chest- his most favorite place to sleep on both of his owners- Foxy begins the purr. 

Freeing one of his arms from underneath the blanket, Arthur lifts the edge to cover most of Foxy's body, but it takes some scratches and pets from Arthur before the tuxedo cat drops down to curl up.

"I remember when I used to be scared we'd have to get rid of him," an apparently awake Merlin startles Arthur. "But you really love him, don't you?"

It's not asked as if Merlin is fishing for a confessional; rather, Merlin states it like a fact.

"He really loves you," Merlin observes, not for the first time.

When Merlin lifts a hand to scratch behind one of Foxy's ears, the not-so-little-anymore kitten purrs louder.

"He really loves you, too, you know," Arthur tells Merlin, who smiles this small, secretive smile.


	355. December 20th

Gliding the tip of his nose along the slope of Arthur's, Merlin thanks his lucky stars- and not for the first time.


	356. December 21st

"Can we buy one of those big cat castles for Foxy for Christmas?"

"You want to buy our cat Christmas presents?"

"Don't you?"


	357. December 22nd

As soon as Merlin opens the front door, he is greeted by a chirp-like meow and a blur of black twining between his feet.

Bending down, Merlin scoops up Foxy to give him a welcome of his own.

"Did you miss me today?" he asks, cradling the kitten on his back and rubbing at his stomach.

Foxy begins to purr.

"Yeah? I missed you, too, mon petit."

Foxy, still purring contently, turns to rubs his head against Merlin's chest.

The sound of footsteps alert the pair to Arthur's presence, causing the both of them to look up.

"Didn't miss me, then?" Arthur asks.

"Oh, I miss you all the time," Merlin responds playfully.

Arthur huffs, but the start of a smile appears a second later. However, instead of replying, he moves in closer to give his husband-to-be a slow, yet short kiss.

Pulling back, he leans his forehead against Merlin's and gently knocks their noses together.

"Hello."

"Hello."


	358. December 23rd

Despite heading their own separate businesses, for years now, Arthur and Morgana have made their yearly workplace holiday parties a big, joint affair, and this year's party is tonight. Merlin and Leon aren't sure if it has something to do with the Pendragon name, or if the siblings just want to have all their friends to suffer over planning details with. They never get a straight answer when they ask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, look at that word count!
> 
> And the comments! This fic is #10 down the list in the Merlin tag when you sort by comments and I want to thank everyone who has commented for that, but mostly Denise and Tafsut! Omg the conversations and friendships we've built!


	359. December 24th

Arthur and Merlin spend the night of Christmas Eve with most of the tolerable members of the former's family. Arthur does what he does best and socializes while Merlin does what he does best and plays with the children, which tires him out.

"Baby."

"Mm," Merlin grouses sleepily.

"Wake up."

"M'up."

"We've got to get going," Arthur tells him quietly, gently brushing the dark locks off his forehead.

"That's good," Merlin informs him somewhat dreamily and with a small yawn.

"C'mon. Or I'll have to carry you out bridal style."

"Groom style," Merlin corrects him.

"Alright, then."

The hands leave Merlin's hair, but he's too exhausted to open his eyes and see where they've gone. And when the hands return, this time to under Merlin's knees and back, he still does not open his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Hanukkah! (I celebrate both Hanukkah and Christmas)


	360. December 25th

For Christmas, Merlin and Arthur spend the holiday with Merlin’s family, consisting mostly of Hunith, Gauis, Alice, and a few other distant relatives Merlin doesn’t get the chance to speak to or see often. But first, they open their gifts to one another at home.

“Is this…” Arthur looks up from his present at Merlin in awe.

“Took me a long time to track it down.”

What Merlin doesn’t tell Arthur is that it took his a few years to track down the painting from the art exhibit they went on for one of their first dates that reminded Arthur of his mother and later that night had him telling Merlin the story of his mother’s death and his childhood growing up motherless.

As for Arthur’s present to Merlin, it took the blond a few months to find the perfect glass dragon figurine with just the right “eyes” that changed color shapes in different lighting and with different movement or approached angles, much like the smaller ones Merlin’s father used to give his son as a boy before passing on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas! And still Happy Hanukkah!


	361. December 26th

At the sound of a struggle in the middle of the day, Arthur rushes to the bedroom. Upon his arrival, he finds Merlin and Foxy fighting over the bedspread.

"Are you going to let me put the sheet on?" Merlin asks the kitten.

As if in reply, Foxy attacks the white cloth in Merlin's hands.

Sighing exasperatedly, Merlin moves to grab another corner.

"Have it your way, then."

Except Foxy makes a sudden leap for Merlin's newly acquired corner.

Sighing once more, Merlin takes a deep breath before yelling out for Arthur.

"You two are astounding," Arthur says amused from the doorway.

Startled, Merlin turns to find his partner already where he needs him. But, suddenly realizing just how much Arthur has probably already seen, Merlin huffs and rolls his eyes away from the blond.

"Will you just help me please?"

"Does getting my phone out to record this whole thing count as helping?"

Turning back to Arthur, Merlin tells him rather blankly, "I will smother you with this sheet."

Arthur smirks. "You'd have to get it away from Foxy first."

Dropping the cloth, Merlin reaches for the nearest pillow, instead.


	362. December 27th

Tonight is the bachelor party because everyone needs to be sober, wake on time, and alert enough for the long drives on Thursday. Originally, Morgana and Will considered having separate parties for Merlin and Arthur, but then they remembered that those two idiots have almost all the same friends. Even though they do try to keep the two at least a bit more apart than normal, as soon as Gwaine plies them with alcohol, Arthur and Merlin hardly spend a moment without the other by their side, whether fully attached at the hip or only just connected by their hooked pinkies reaching desperately for one another from their outrageously outstretched arms.


	363. December 28th

Although they are bringing Foxy with them tomorrow on their trip to their wedding destination so that Gwen and Lance can take care of him during Merlin and Arthur's honeymoon, and even though tomorrow night is technically their last night sharing a bed together before they're married, it is their last night sleeping together in their bed at home. Add to that that they know they will want to spend their time tomorrow night wrapped up in one another's arms, Arthur and Merlin make tonight's cuddle fest all about their cat.


	364. December 29th

The day is spent driving, Arthur and Merlin alternating turns between being driver and passenger-slash-Foxy-holder. As for tonight, there is the dinner rehearsal, because Merlin and Arthur insist on having their last Friday of the month date night tomorrow night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *deep breaths*  
> There are only two more days left... Two more days with these boys in this time... I mean, I still plan to continue next year but skipped five years in advance, but... Wow... Wow.... Wow.
> 
> I hope to write so much more these next two days.


	365. December 30th

Merlin wakes with Foxy in his arms and Arthur wakes with Merlin in his. Knowing it will be their last with their kitten for a few days, they try to make the most of their morning in bed together, trying to delay getting up at a later hour.

After a lunch spent going over last minute details with George and their friends, Arthur and Merli set out to spend their day together. Instead of their typical last Friday of the month date night, they make a whole day of it.

Late at night, when Merlin’s mother finally arrives, Merlin and Arthur say their goodnights before parting ways; Merlin sharing his mother’s room and Arthur returning to the one he and Merlin woke in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe this is the 2nd to last day of the year and this is all I have to say, but I got hurt today and one of my fingers is sort of bleeding out onto my keyboard, so forgive me.


	366. December 31st

Merlin watches the digital clock on the nightstand as it changes from 11:59 to 12:00, which is exactly when his phone buzzes with an incoming text message.

"Call me," it reads from Arthur.

Not wanting to wake his mother, Merlin wraps his blanket around himself and makes for the little living nook attached to her room. All the way across is a window with a reading seat sill underneath. Merlin sits on that, leaning his cocooned body against the cool glass.

"Merlin," Arthur breathes, picking up on the first ring. "We're getting married today."

"We are getting married today," he whispers in agreement with a huffed laugh and a tilted smile.

They sit in silent for what could be minutes on end, just listening to the other breathe over the speaker, both smiling these little smiles to themselves until the peace is broken by Arthur yawning.

“My love?” Merlin whispers to him.

“Yes?” Arthur whispers back.

“Go to sleep,” Merlin tells him softly.

“You too, my love,” just as softly, Arthur advices.

++

“Knock, knock,” Will jokes as he strolls into the room Merlin is stuck pacing for the next ten or so minutes before the reception starts. 

“Did he get it?” Merlin asks.

Rolling his eyes, Will huffs. “Yes, your husband-to-be got your sickening love note, don’t worry.” He plops down on the sofa against the wall that Freya is sitting on, waiting to smack him.

Merlin sighs in relief, but keeps up his pacing.

“I think it’s sweet,” Freya informs him.

Will rolls his eyes once more while shuffling around in the breast pocket of his blazer. When he finally retrieves the small piece of paper he was searching for, he extends his arms out to Merlin.

“Mate, this is for you.”

Merlin snatches it out of Will’s hand before he has even finished speaking.

++

Hunith swats at her son’s hands before they can completely wring out his tie and wrinkle it.

“Stop that.”

“He’s going to be my husband soon, mum,” Merlin whispers, eyes wide on the closed doors before them where they stand waiting for George to cue their ushering in. “I’m going to be his husband soon.”

“Don’t start crying yet,” Hunith warns. “Your father started crying before I did and I fully expect you and Arthur to go through the same and I also refuse to cry before either of you.”

Though Merlin laughs wetly at that, he does manage to keep the tears at bay.

++

They’re not one hundred percent sure, but Merlin and Arthur are pretty confident that they both start crying at the same time.

++

“I do.”

++

“I have loved my best mate, Merlin, for just about all our lives,” starts Will with his best man speech. “As for that other bloke?” He points to Arthur, tilting his head and pinching his lips in consideration. “I’ve liked him for about a few minutes now.”

Proudly he smiles when his words get him the laughs he was hoping for.

“Oh, just sit down, would you!” Arthur jokes from the head table. 

It’s a little difficult for Merlin to give him a smack when he’s snorting and giggling into Arthur’s neck.

++

Morgana stands up for her speech and clears her throat into the microphone.

“Eh, they’re both alright, I suppose.”

She sits back down.

A moment later she bolts back up to the microphone, earning her more laughs than Will had received. She turns to him smugly.

“See, William? This is how you entertain a crowd.”

“Eh, I’d say your presentation’s alright, I suppose,” Merlin drolls from the head table with his chin in one hand.

“I’d watch it if I were you,” Morgana warns. “We’re related now, which means I get to say awful and embarrassing things about you in public whenever I please.”

“You already do that!” Merlin cries out indignantly.

“Yes, but now I don’t have to pretend to mean it when I apologize.”

The crowd laughs even harder than last time.

++

“You really do look beautiful, you know.”

“Oh, I know.”

He huffs with a smile-

“Shut up.”

-before kissing his husband.

“You’re beautiful yourself.”

“I was thinking more gorgeous, but sure.”

“Ass.”

“That’s not too bad, either,” he brags with a winks.

++

_Oh my love_

_Oh my love_

_Oh my love, take me high_

_Higher love_

_Higher love_

_Higher love with you_

 

_Oh my love, open up_

_Oh my love you, give me truth_

_Honest love_

_Honest love_

_All this love for you_

 

_Oh my love, oh my love_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song in italics: "Oh My Love" by Layla
> 
> Hello, friends. So, here we are, at the end. I can hardly believe we've made it. I can't believe it's over. Thinking back, it still feels like the first day all over again. (For those of you who plan to stick around for my continuation, it soon will be.)
> 
> I would personally like to thank everyone that has left comments, kudos, and bookmarks. I would especially like to thank anyone who has stuck around from the beginning (most especially Denise and Tafsut.. and Haley on occasion, sorry, boo).
> 
> Wow. We're actually at the end. 366 DAYS AND 75,000+ WORDS!!!!!!! Wow.
> 
> I keep looking at the "366/366." The question mark is gone.. This fic is... complete. 
> 
> I can't believe we've made it here.
> 
> Thank you so much to anyone who so much as even opened this fic once. I just... Thank you. I don't even know how to thank anyone who has read this. What a wild adventure and year it has been... And some of you actually stuck around to hear about it! I can't thank some of you enough..
> 
> I feel like a mama bird with an empty nest, even though I know in a few hours I will be starting a new fic. And speaking of.... If you have enjoyed this fic, then I hope you stick around next year as I try once again to write every day for the whole year, but this time, including Merlin and Arthur's 3-year-old daughter, Grace and 7-month-old daughter, Jasmine (aka Minnie).
> 
>  
> 
> HAPPY NEW FEARS! ;)  
> And happy new year from me, Foxy (both my real Foxy and this story's Foxy), and the boys x
> 
> (I might add more to this thank you in a few hours, but I think I need some sleep first... Just.... Thank you. Whether you stuck around from January 1st of 2016 or start reading January 1st of 2017. Thank you. Thank you.)


End file.
